It was an accident, really
by whatislefttosay
Summary: The first time it happened, Kakashi would swear it was an accident. In fact, he might even go so far as to deny it even occurred in the first place. He definitely did not lock lips with his student, not at all, not ever. He wouldn't, for regardless of his inner perverseness, he prided himself on being proper and respectful. He was Hatake Kakashi, after all.
1. The first occurrence

The first time it happened, Kakashi would swear it was an accident. In fact, he might even go so far as to deny it even occurred in the first place. He definitely did not lock lips with his student, not at all, not ever. He wouldn't, for regardless of his inner perverseness, he prided himself on being proper and respectful. He was Hatake Kakashi. He was sensei to the two saviors of the world, he was advisor to the hokage-in-training, and he was leader of the dog summons. He was honorable, respectful, and very fearful of retaliation from a certain blonde Sannin with far too much strength in her fists.

So, when his darling student tripped and stumbled over her own feet, he blamed what happens next on the fact that he could not override his instinct to catch her in her descent. He paid no heed to the ground that was freshly laden with rain, they were some of the most revered ninja in Konoha and they did _not_ lose their footing in mud. They were trained to walk on water, it was infeasible to even humor such an idea. Or so he thought, because the blonde jinchuriki was in his arms and his feet were sliding and Kakashi damned every ounce of water in existence as he fell backward. Silver hair turned brown as a wave of earth overwhelmed the both of them, but that was the furthest thought from his head. One wide grey eye met two cerulean ones in shared disbelief as petal lips graced the masked ones of his own. He absolutely did not notice how soft her body was against his nor did he acknowledge her warmth, and Hatake Kakashi did not revel in the moment long enough to linger. He did not, because that was improper, and the hokage-in-training was too dignified and too innocent and too damn young to be in this situation with him.

He would deny any of it until the day he died. However, when her tan skin flushed a becoming rose color, he might own up to the fact that she was beautiful. He was taken aback by the situation, enraptured by the woman pressed against him. The sun had gilded her hair to the point of it shimmering as a frame of gold curtained around them. It was almost too much, he decided, and any man with any decency would be ensnared by her. He was helpless really, just a victim of circumstance. So when he did not immediately remove himself from the situation, he chalked it off to helplessness. When his hands settled upon her waist, it was only to help lift her from his person. And when his grey eye closed, it was only because there was mud in it and not at all because the woman before him was too radiant and he found himself blinded.

When said blonde recovered from the shock and all but leapt up and away, so far away, from his person, Kakashi did not mourn the loss of his darling student. Rather, he merely dismissed the situation as accident and bemoaned the mud hardening upon his vest. He certainly did not miss her warmth as it ebbed from his skin, nor did he sigh because he was stricken with a ghost of longing. It was indigestion, he decided, from laying down too quickly after eating. And when his red faced student shook her head as if she could dispel the memory, he did not find her endearing.

Hatake Kakashi dusted off what he could, made a quip about her owing him a new vest, and substituted himself out of the way of the ensuing roundhouse kick that would have knocked his teeth in. He acknowledged the wood as it splintered in his place, threw a half hearted wave over his shoulder, and disappeared from the scene entirely. It would be two days before he returned to his post by his student's side at the hokage desk. It did not go without notice how her cheeks tinted at his proximity, but if their fellow comrades had any questions about such a circumstance, they knew better than to voice their curiosity. Besides, Hatake Kakashi would deny anything that transpired on that fateful day and his student had fists quicker than Tsunade's.


	2. The second occurrence

The second time it happened **,** Tsunade abandoned his student at the hokage's desk. She had thrown her hands up in indignation and stormed out of the room, leaving three villagers and one very startled blonde in her wake. As he walked towards the office, he could hear the sannin yell "You deal with it!" and proceed to growl about needing more sake to deal with ungrateful citizens. The slammed door that announced her departure from the building was loud enough to shake its very foundation, but he was unconcerned. Such was the price of peaceful times.

He entered the room and found the three villagers staring in disbelief as they turned towards Naruko. Her hands were raised as if to show she was unarmed, but he noticed the gentle quiver to her shoulders. He was worried only momentarily, for the next second those same arms folded around her stomach and she shook with laughter that pealed brightly throughout the room. Then, as if a cord had snapped, the villagers joined in the humor at the Hokage's expense and the entire building sighed into the merriment. It was bright, he decided, a fitting scene for the woman standing behind the desk. Her long hair was tied back in the two ponytails he had come to adore, and he attempted to stifle his own amusement as he watched them sway back and forth in time with the laughter that escaped from her smiling mouth.

He was pulled from his introspection when she stopped abruptly, pointed an accusatory finger in his direction, and yelled out that he was the one responsible for this mess. He did not flinch when he heard her signature, " _oi!_ Kakashi-sensei!", growled out in a tone riddled with consternation. Instead, he nodded his head in feigned penance and agreed to whatever task she had burdened him with. It was easiest this way, he thought, as it yielded the least chance of a headache at the end of it all. He never could win an argument with the jinchuriki, anyways. She was too hot headed and stubborn, sometimes even more so than Tsunade, and it wouldn't do to dampen her mood. Not on a day like today, at least.

Three hours later, a very bored Kakashi was seen traipsing through the village with a sluggishness to his step. He was worn out and the task was absolutely not worth his easy acquiesce to her demands, especially since he ended up with a migraine anyways. Sighing, he tucked his book into his jacket and leapt to the window of the hokage's office. He was conjuring up the perfect way to iterate his annoyance at her previous demand, but every word that sat ready and waiting on the tip of his tongue fell silent as he alighted upon the ledge. The entire room felt suffocating, too dark and too sullen for the being seated in the center of it. He peered into the darkness as he held his breath, fearful to ruin the moment before he could adequately determine the reason everything felt so _wrong_.

His eyes fell on the blonde hunched over the desk, her entity doused in shadows. Her glimmering hair was dull and lifeless, her skin seemed flat and grey. Her back was curved as if she was caving in upon herself. He noticed her hands were fisted into her sides and in some small recess of his mind, he worried that she was going to tear into her shirt.

Though the image before him was worrisome, he realized that it was not the most disturbing aspect of it all. It was her silence. In his entire time of knowing her, Naruko had never once been quiet. Her presence had always demanded notice, even when she was young. It was unnatural to not hear anything in the room, not her humming or the shuffling of papers or the sound of multiple clones working tirelessly in the background. It unnerved him, so much so that it made him hesitate. He did not know how to dispel this lapse of time, to rewrite the moment and make it back to what it was when he first walked into her office earlier that day.

He moved from the ledge and all but stumbled to the front of her desk. He felt out of place, unsteady, as if anything he did from here on out would determine something more than just this moment. _It mattered_ , he decided, and that bothered him. To see her so out of place, so out of her typical exuberance, was something he couldn't bear leaving to circumstance alone. He reached for his student with trembling hands, irritated that he could not quell his emotions enough to not depict his worry. But he found it was pointless, as his eyes finally caught sight of her face. He froze. His outstretched hand fell still, his breath hitched in his throat, and his heart sounded loudly in his ears. She was crying. The rivulets of tears stood stark against her skin. They carved torrents down her cheeks, fell into a growing pool upon the desk, upon the papers that lay crumbled before her. The ink was running already, he noticed, but he could read the name, his eyesight keen even in the shadows. _Jiraiya_ , it read. The stack was a set of his funeral papers, the ones that were needed in order to move his body from the Rain country back to Konoha.

"We needed," she hiccupped, "to bring him home..." and as she shook, her small frame shrinking more within itself, Kakashi came to a very sudden and halting realization. What he was witnessing now was a monument falling, the stone head of the hokage fracturing before it was carved. He was watching a hero shatter before him. He found himself choking around her name, stricken powerless to help the one who gave so much of herself just to save them all.

Her hands unclenched themselves from her sides. They quivered as they lifted to wipe her tears away.

"Gomen-ne, Kakashi-sensei," she stuttered between the breaths that constricted her chest, "I just didn't expect... it was land requests and pleas for aid and then this," her voice gave out mid sentence, "it brought back memories of everyone I lost... so many... so many friends..."And then the great savior collapsed, and he could only watch as the sobs tore her throat open and her head fell against her chest as she dug her wrists into her eye sockets. She was trying to stop the tears from falling, trying to staunch the open wound, trying to prevent the inevitable. He could feel the weight of crushing defeat as it bore down upon her. The whole room heaved with her as sob after sob knocked against her ribs and ripped the strength from her heart.

This, Kakashi thought, was unbearable. He had bore witness to many horrifying things in his life. First was his father who had fallen upon his own blade, _and the blood and the mess and the loss of family and love._ Next came Obito crushed beneath a boulder _and more blood and more loss and why couldn't he save them?_ Then came Rin, his hand pierced through her chest and _more blood and silence and a broken promise_. None of it, he shuddered, none of it was worse than this. This moment, right here, with his student falling so far beyond his reach he worried he would never find her again, had struck Kakashi to his very core and rattled him beyond measure.

This moment, he knew, would define his and her companionship for the rest of their lives. He could leave, right now, could run from conflict and lick his wounds in private as he was want to do. He could save himself and leave her to her demise with none the wiser, he could trust that she would come back out of this with some semblance of her old self. She would never be the same, never be as vulnerable, open, honest as she used to be if he left her to her ruin. The thought of such an eventuality caused something to twist sharply within Kakashi's chest, it was a pain that wound its way far too deeply into his heart. He wondered where the air went, where the sun had gone, why the entire world seemed to run still. He faltered for an answer, and came up with none.

Staring at his comrade, the hokage-to-be, his student, his friend, he understood his life had suddenly redirected itself to serve her own. His hands rose unbidden to catch her wrists, strong fingers steadied her shaking, and with a gentle but irrefutable tug, he pulled his student against his chest and entombed her securely in his arms.

Her body rioted against his steady frame as the sobs became too violent for her to control. Even then, he thought he heard a _sorry_ amidst all the breaking. A face, contorted in agony, buried itself against his chest. He could feel her teeth grind into his vest, desperate to silence her own suffering.

"Stop that, Naruko," he insisted as his hand wove itself through her hair and distantly he questioned why she had taken it down, "you do not need to be quiet. No one is here to condemn you for hurting, it is okay. Everything is okay."

But her teeth were stubborn, and he wondered if she could hear him above her own cries. He decided it didn't matter. His ruined vest was replaceable, the wounded girl in his arms was not. He lifted her from the hokage's chair, settled himself into it, and curled around her as if to shelter her and her undoing from the rest of the world. This is where they stayed, until the sobs became hiccups, until the hiccups became stutters, until her breath fell even and she tumbled into sleep. He spent that time running his hands through her hair, rubbing soothing circles into her back, tucking her more securely against his neck and chest as he murmured reassurances to her. It became both a mantra and a prayer to him, a ritual he repeated over and over again. He did not yield in his ministrations even after she fell into her slumber, too worried that if he stopped, she'd wake and crumble once more.

It was well beyond midnight when Tsunade barged into the office, door ricocheting violently against its frame, and Kakashi leveled her with a glare that would have frozen an army in its tracks had they still been at war. He only relaxed when the girl in his arms remained sleeping, undisturbed by the unannounced intrusion. It was then that he noticed the redness to the Hokage's cheeks, the sloppiness to her attire, the fault in her step, but the minute she cast her eyes upon the scene before her, her spine went stiff as a rod. She walked over to her goddaughter, placed a steady palm against her forehead and counted. Once she ascertained that the general health of her precious person was not of critical condition, she cast a jutsu to ensure she would enter into a deeper sleep. Only then did she raise her voice to question Kakashi.

When Kakashi's immediate response was to contort his face into something akin to fear and anguish, she asked nothing more of the copy-nin. She reassured him that his student would rest easily tonight, that she would be okay, and that it was bound to happen eventually. Someone could only carry so much before they collapsed, but she reminded him of Naruko's inner capacity to overcome everything that threatened to ruin her. This moment today, she promised, would not be what did her in.

That oath removed some of the tension that nestled itself into Kakashi's spine and he sighed in hesitant relief. He reveled in the reassurance, because he, too, knew just how strong the woman in his arms had become. It was only when Tsunade raised her voice a second time that Kakashi found himself face to face with another conundrum.

"She can't be alone when she wakes up," Tsunade frowned, the unasked question sat heavily in the space between them

Kakashi realized he could do away with tonight. He had fulfilled his role as her sensei and friend, he had been there when she needed him. He would not need to face the aftermath if he just handed her off now to the arms of the Hokage. He trusted her, knew she would take care of his student and be there to console her in the morning. But something in him ached with a longing that made him respond before he considered the consequences that would surely come to light in the future,

"I'll take her" he whispered, afraid that she would wake even under Tsunade's jutsu, "I'll make sure she's alright in the morning".

Tsunade smiled knowingly and nodded her head. Her fingers interwove themselves in his gravity-defying hair and she ruffled it playfully.

"Arigato, Kakashi-kun" she nodded her head and attempted to stifle a laugh as she did. She remembered the old days fondly, when young Kakashi would shake his head as if to dispel her existence into nothingness. He was young but far too talented for such childish gestures, but of all the people to ever have been so intrusive, Tsunade was the only one who ever managed to be so close to him. She reveled in the fact that she could steal moments like this from the copy-nin, even after all this time has passed.

She leaned in, then, hand still entwined in his hair, and pressed her lips to his student's forehead, causing a blush to mar Kakashi's pale cheeks.

"You're in good hands, Naruko" she whispered. Tsunade lingered there for a moment longer, lips pressed against her goddaughter's skin, and uttered a silent prayer for her companion's well being. And with a quickness that rivaled Naruko's own, she removed herself from the two entirely and disappeared in a puff of smoke. It took Kakashi a few moments later to come back to his senses, the prior occurrence too intimate for him to fully comprehend.

He shrugged his shoulders, cracked his neck, and made a quick conglomeration of symbols against his student's back in order to teleport them to his house.

With her nestled securely in his arms, he found himself standing in his the middle of his living room. He stood there for a moment, allowing the familiarity of the scents within his home to relax him further. It had been a long day, he concluded, and he was beyond ready for bed.

The thought caused him to tense anew, however, when he pondered the sleeping arrangements. She could sleep on the couch, as she wouldn't wake for another few hours at the very least and he was certain that was more comfortable than her previous position. However, the thought disgruntled him as propriety states the guest receives the best accommodation feasible, and that, he concluded, would be his bed. It took only a minute for him to begrudge his current situation, as he knew he would never rid her scent from the down of his nor from the threads of his sheets, but he yielded to the necessity of circumstance once more. Besides, when she wasn't saturated with ramen, she smelled of the forest at sunset, the kind that lingered in the wildflower fields and belonged solely to her. It wasn't an unpleasant smell, in fact he found that he favored it amongst his entire team. It just did not belong in his bed as it wasn't proper, but it was an inevitable consequence of his situation and so he relented all the same.

He set the blonde gently upon the top of his bed, unlaced her sandals from her feet, and removed the jacket from her small frame. He frowned when he noticed just how skinny she had become, the war and the preparation to become hokage had made her forget to take care of herself. Resigning to the situation at hand, Kakashi swore another oath to ensure her well being by observing her eating habits and rectifying every time she did not consume enough to meet her nutritional needs. His student was becoming quite the handful, but he found her to be a burden worth bearing when she nuzzled sweetly into his pillow and seemed to relax into a deeper sleep.

He lifted the blankets over her body, tucked them around her frame, and dimmed the lights. The moon seemed to sink beneath her skin, illuminating her in all the colors of silver and grey. It irradiated all the darkness that seemed to exist earlier in the evening. She seemed without sorrow and without fault, an angel untouched by the tragedy of this world. It endeared her to him, her innocence, and he found himself caught in the midst of an undeniable need to kiss her forehead the way Tsunade had. It was a sign of friendship, he reminded himself, a solidification of the bonds that lay between them. It was appropriate, given the length to the day and the trials that were sure to lay ahead of them.

He justified his following act with every reason but the one that entwined itself throughout his ribs and bound him more than chains ever could. A longing ran so deeply within him, the same one that made him ache when she was falling to pieces, that he could not deny its demands to be close to her, to protect her, to shield and nurture her light that he treasured so terribly much. It is with this realization that Kakashi pressed his unmasked lips to her forehead, and stayed there for far longer than he should have. He entombed her scent into the very recesses of his mind in desperation to not lose nor forget the person that laid beneath him. He decided, in that moment, that he would do anything within his power to never let her break the same way again. She would not suffer nor endure her heartache on her own. He would support her and stand by her side until the end of her days, he would shelter her from the darkness. She would never be alone again.

Many hours later, daybreak announced its presence as the gentle light poured across Naruko's face once more, rousing her from her sleep. She woke to the scent of bacon and eggs and coffee. She was in an unfamiliar bed that smelled a lot like her sensei, and when she fumbled her way into the kitchen, her eyes widened in disbelief at the meal that awaited her. Kakashi had ordered her to eat every bite, but not before running a gentle cloth over her eyes to soothe the soreness from all the tears she shed the night before. She hiccupped, but he ran a soothing hand across her furrowed brow.

"Think nothing of it, Naruko," Kakashi commanded as she let him console her once again, "now eat."

For the first time in a long time, Kakashi's demands were not met with any opposition. The small girl ate every last bite, drank every droplet of coffee, and helped clean the dishes afterwards by insisting it was the very least she could do. When all was said and done, the toll of the tower's bell reminded them of their scheduled duties for the day.

As she rose from lacing her sandals, Kakashi was rewarded with a blinding smile that was more genuine and radiant than ever before, one solely reserved for him. Cerulean eyes widened in unrestrained joy as tan fingers encircled his gloved hands and tugged him after her as she ran towards the hokage tower. Yes, he decided, he had righted all that was wrong, and as he quickened his pace to match her stride, he furthered his resolve to ensure she remained as brilliant as she was this morning.


	3. The Third Occurrence

The third time it happened, the blonde was in a set of four and all of them were bickering with an unseen companion. He could only assume that the demon, no, _Kurama_ , inside of her was attempting to persuade her upon an alternative path, and such an attempt was being fought with indignant refute. The noise in the room escalated to near unbearable decibels until four noses twitched in unison and he found himself face to face with four sets of narrowed eyes. He paused only for a moment to notice how the setting sun painted those orbs azure before he quickly turned on his heel and attempted a hasty retreat. However, eight well-manicured hands fisted themselves into his vest, and he found himself face to face with four very stubborn, very obstinate, and very determined jinchurikis.

"What is it now, Naruko?" he sighed with more force than he intended and watched bemused as the bangs upon their foreheads ruffled in response to his breath.

She hesitated only for a moment before she exhaled. He hid the cough that arose when her clones dissipated from sight, muffling the slight irritation at the smoke before he redirected his focus to the main problem. The real body stood before him, eyes set in solid resolve. Her two hands alighted and took reign upon his cheeks, an act Kakashi found himself far too familiar with as he was subjected to it more often than propriety allowed. She was more comfortable around him due to all the time they spent together. She touched him far too frequently, he mused, but he found little ire to spare for such actions. He became used to them and the sudden warmth that rose within him in response to her gentle caresses. He even anticipated them, which lent itself to longing whenever his anticipations were unrewarded. He did not dwell on what that thought for too long, as propriety did not much allow for such emotions where she was concerned. It was all becoming far too complicated for him.

He watched expectantly as her face underwent its familiar cascade of contusions. Confusion, hesitation, uncertainty, and determination flashed across her countenance. He was relieved she was an open book to read. He prided himself on being able to discern between the minor alterations that shed light on to the thoughts that resided in her head. She never spoke all of them out loud, but he could see them, feel them, and smell them, such that he recognized an emotion far before she even came up with the words to voice it. He almost always felt one step ahead of her that way, with one notable exception - today. At this moment, the emotions within her blue eyes refused to settle. He gazed into those tumultuous waves within those orbs and could not help but to feel as if he was drowning.

"Out with it," he insisted, trying his best to hide the anxiety behind his command. Voicing his demand felt like coming up for air, and her immediate response to such a thing put the oxygen back into his lungs.

Her shock at his sudden outburst was momentary at best, as he saw the shift in her stance to put the weight in the soles of her feet. She was prepared to fight, he realized, and her eyes steeled with insistence.

"I want to drink to the fallen" she exhaled determinedly, and he thought, for just a minute, that it was a joke. He was thankful for his years of self restraint, because the twitch in her fingers stalled the laughter that was on his tongue. It took her just a second too long to guard the pain that flashed across her eyes. She was anticipating his refusal and as such began bracing herself for the unfavorable outcome. The realization of such did him in. He could never bring himself to knowingly let her down.

"Alright" he relented. She was of age, so it wasn't wrong _per se_. Propriety allowed for two friends to share a drink. Besides, there were worse things in life than a drunk woman. He decided that should such an eventuality occur, it was best that he was present to mitigate whatever consequences arose as a result. He did, after all, promise to protect her. And after many years of being her teacher, her motto of never going back on her word was engraved upon his heart as well. He sighed in begrudging resolve.

"However," he could not muffle his curiosity and queried, "doesn't Kurama purify any alcohol?" He did not miss the fond smile she gave him when he used the kyuubi's name, and he mentally patted himself on the back for remembering. Her smile soon fell victim to pearl white colored teeth as she worried her bottom lip between them.

"He is still depleted from the final battle," she exhaled in a rush, as if she was panicked he'd decline her request, "If there was ever a time for me to get drunk," she sighed, "it's now, when he can't purify as quickly as I can assemble chakra. It will still have to be an excessive amount, but I want to feel as Ero-Sennin did, just once…. please." she stumbled now, hesitant to own up to the true reason she wanted to raise a glass to them all. She felt as if she wanted a deeper connection to those she lost, to imbibe and feel as her old sensei did when he was red-faced before her. Even greatness was fallable, and she wanted to be the same. She wanted to feel human, to feel less like the hero and more like Naruko. She didn't want to be the savior for tonight, she didn't want to be burdened by the praise that didn't feel she deserved. Now was the only chance she'd have at being a normal eighteen year old, and she'd be damned if she didn't utilize the opportunity. Still, she didn't want to wander into uncertain territory alone, and there was no one she trusted more than Kakashi. She tried to relay all of it by rubbing her thumbs across his cheeks to attempt to make him more amenable to the idea. She felt her shoulders fall when he remained quiet for longer than she could bear.

It was when her shoulders slouched that he remembered just how vulnerable she was. Memories of the day she broke branded themselves in his mind. He could feel the pressure ebb from her hand and realized she was getting ready to pull away. He nuzzled his nose into her palm to stop her.

"Okay, Naruko. We will drink sake tonight," he explained, "my treat."

The smile that rewarded him for his agreement was worth a thousand of these moments. His easy consent was becoming worrisome for him, however. He was far too fond of her wide eyes, of the blush that tinted just the tops of her cheek bones, of the way her quivering lips steadied themselves in a form of unbridled joy. He was taken aback by the idea that he'd be content for the rest of his life should he be the only one to ever be the cause of such a smile. It was selfish, he knew, and improper. He should've denied her entreaty and removed himself from her. But he couldn't. He found that he simply did not possess the willpower to not yield to her requests. He was lifted from that line of thinking as her insistent hands fell from his face, moved slowly down his arms, and were once again enclosed around his gloved ones. He eyed her hand as if it was a traitor, but he relinquished himself to her claim. His fingers closed securely around hers, and he followed in her stead.

They arrived at a bar close to his house, were directed to a booth secluded in the back, and were seated across from one another within minutes. He pondered just how quickly they had run to this destination, but paid little heed to the math when she unzipped her orange jacket. He could not comprehend how he had managed to take no notice of her attire before, as he did not think there ever was a moment in the entirety of her eighteen years that Naruko Uzumaki wore a dress. But there she was, her golden hair spilling as a waterfall over her shoulders, pouring across a navy blue summer dress. Night met Day in fond hello as the gilded hair shone against the dark fabric, and Kakashi found himself breathless. She was beautiful, he knew, but tonight she looked radiant. The candelight danced in her cerulean orbs, melting them into molten sapphire. The shadows that played across her cheeks softened her features. She was otherworldly, a being of captured starlight. He was mesmerized, enraptured, and wholly at her mercy. So, when she ordered five shots and insisted he consume them immediately with her, he nodded his head and obeyed. She repeated her request, and he could not manage to lift himself from his daze enough to anticipate the consequences of yielding so easily to the woman before him.

Ten shots later and he sat before an unphased Uzumaki while he, himself, tried to steady the spinning room. _I needed to stop three shots ago_ , he thought, but the blonde before him ordered another five rounds. When he finally managed to tear his eyes away from the vision before him, he found himself irritated at the onlookers. Their gazes lingered too long on Naruko, more than he thought was proper, and he half humored the idea of rising and putting them all in their place. He relaxed as he eyed Naruko. The woman before him seemed unaffected by both the drinks and the attention. He was taken aback by the tenacity of her focus. It rested on him, on his words, and on the drinks that lie before her. She paid no mind to anyone or anything else. With every shot, she breathed a name as if in prayer, trying to entomb them within herself in both memory and practice. It was an act of reverence, he soon came to realize.

Fifteen shots later and Naruko finally had rouge-colored cheeks. In retrospect, Kakashi probably should have stopped her there, taken her back to her house, and tucked her into her bed after she drank some water. He knew better, but decided against following his rules and instead watched entranced as she consumed another five shots of sake. Her face reminded him of the first _accident_ , her blue eyes were hooded and her cheeks were stained with rose. It suited her too well, he decided, and made her look far older than she was. One of the straps to her dress hung off of her shoulders, giving him a view of the swell of her breasts. In some small aspect of his mind he wondered when it was that she grew into her womanhood. He tried to attribute her development to a specific year but came up lacking. It was because she always wore that jumpsuit, he decided, but even that excuse seemed fallible to him. He thought that he should fix her dress for her, since she had no intention of doing it herself but he could not will his hand to move. Her attire now had him questioning his decency, and as such, he considered the idea of putting the porn away in order to irradiate his mind from his newfound inappropriate tendencies. The horror of such an existence immediately squashed that idea, however. He would just have to be a lecher.

Her face rested in the palm of her hand as she eyed him quizzically. She seemed to ponder him and his countenance, and he found himself once again unnerved by his student. Her eyes were too much to take in, he relented, the blue too changing in the candlelight that it felt like he was lost, for the second time that day, at sea. He couldn't discern the greys from the shades of blue that rested within them, and with his sharingan, such a feat should have been feasible. Yes, he decided, it was the candle to blame for his inability to concentrate. With the blame being firmly established in his mind, Kakashi was once again distracted as one hand found its way around his cheek and wove itself against his jaw. He faltered as all thoughts fell from him and paid far too close attention to her lips as they formed around the syllables. They were stained with the color of the berries she had eaten earlier, painting them delectable and tempting.

"Neh, Kakashi-sensei," she breathed, "I think I finally understand it all now" she sighed as her head tilted to further emphasize her curiosity. She leaned forward, and he only briefly acknowledged the spilled drink that cluttered between them. His first response was terror, as he half anticipated a certain Sannin barging into the place with a fist aimed at the ready to launch itself against his jaw. His eyes darted to the door, irrational fear ruling his actions before he had the sense to stop them. His student was too close, too earnest, and he couldn't foresee the restraint either of them had to stop her. His fright rendered him more coward than brave as his two hands immediately took their place amidst the blonde's shoulders. He needed to get them out of the line of potential danger, as word of her intimate actions would surely result in a blonde hokage at that door any millisecond now. With as little of a warning as a twitch of his brow, he and his student suddenly reappeared on his couch in the safety of his home, the sound of falling coins the only reassurance to the barkeep that he had owed up to the bill him and Naruko had generated.

The jinchuriki fell against him, her drunken state too foreign for her to adjust to the slowness that resulted from it. He heard an " _I'm sorry_ " muffled against his chest as she pushed herself away from her teacher, but the awkward position had unsettled her. He found himself holding his breath as his student shifted against him. Two tan knees dug into his hips and he tried his damndest to not acknowledge the compromising situation before him.

He watched her face as she altered her position slowly, and the unbidden yearning to just stop her stimulating movements had caused him to dig his fingers into her hips. She yelped and ceased her motion, an outcome that Kakashi was grateful for. Had she continued in her actions, a different and much more improper response would have arose from the Jounin. That, he knew, could never happen as that was the epitome of indecency.

Blue eyes met one grey one as once again, he found himself far too close to his student. He wondered, distantly, when the alcohol would wear off of her, when she would realize the compromising position the two of them were in and remove herself from his person entirely. He had hoped it would be soon, as the fingers that initially dug into her hip had suddenly relaxed themselves enough to become caressing. He had attempted to mitigate such a reaction, but found himself helpless. He questioned when it was that he so willingly fell victim to her actions, and pondered if he should perhaps do more to avoid situations like these in the future.

Cobalt eyes fell half closed as her hands rose to the edge of his mask. They danced along it, never attempting to pry it off of his face, but he inwardly noted that they left trails of fire in their wake. He could not breathe around the name that hitched itself once again in his throat. Her eyes shifted in their emotions, from curiosity, to hesitance, to a need that made Kakashi adjust uncomfortably in his seat.

"Neh, Kakashi-sensei," she breathed as her words came slow and heavy from her tongue. He could only watch as she struggled to form the words, paying far too close attention to the tongue that clicked against her teeth. He wondered what she would taste like and immediately berated himself for such indecent thoughts. He was lifted from his reverie when two hands tucked themselves beneath his mask and against his cheek, her fingers far warmer than his own skin. He attempted to voice his protest, but there she was, before him, all innocence evident by the flush that stained her skin.

In that moment, Kakashi knew he was in dangerous territory. He understood the consequence of such a situation, that such an intimate position between the two of them would forever decide their interactions from here on out. He could vanish before her, leave her to his apartment, and be exempt from further inclusion to her life than that which he partook in now. But, he found he could not lift himself from this moment, could not generate enough of a need to be away from her. So, he decided, he'd leave it to her. In hindsight, it was careless since she was riddled with alcohol, but it would pass. She would comprehend the wrongness of their circumstance and remedy her mistakes. Nevermind that it felt far too _right_ to have her pressed against him. She would remember he was her teacher and react in line with propriety. That was what he believed to be best, anyways, and so it was of little consequence to prolong their interaction. He just had to be patient until she eradicated the alcohol in her system.

"Please," she exhaled, and the plea was not lost to him. He tensed from his toes to his jaw as his hands buried themselves mercilessly into her hips, wrinkling the dress he had come to love. She did not falter as her fingers dug further beneath his mask and continued in their movement to remove it from his person. She just looked too damn innocent, he decided, and he would not live knowing he denied her anything. Of all the people in his life, she deserved to know and see the truth. And maybe, just maybe, he was too tired of being hidden. He spent far too long in the shadows, it was time he be lifted into the light.

Tan fingers undid his only security as a pale face laid unmasked before her. The intake of breath that followed unsettled him, and he found himself trying to create any excuse to just leave. He was already peeling away from her, trying to establish distance in the wake of their intimate proximity. She must have sensed his impending departure, as her thighs tightened around him and those same fingers curled around his jaw, weaving their way to the back of his ears. He pondered whether or not she knew just how sensitive that place was to him, but the thought was forgotten as her fingertips fell still. She had ensnared him and he was lost to her.

"So beautiful" she breathed as she leaned closer towards him, "it's unfair, sensei" was her excuse as her lips crashed upon his unmasked ones. He flinched as if he was struck, and he might as well have been as all his nerve endings fired at once.

He could not settle on a thought long enough to make sense of anything. One moment she was soft and gentle and innocent, and the next she was closer to him than before and insistent and so delectable that Kakashi already had a list composed of all the things he wanted to do to her. She was open mouthed and tasted of honey and berries and hint of ramen, a mixture he soon decided he could taste for the rest of his life because it belonged solely to her. She tasted like summer months. He felt like he was kissing sunlight, caressing fire, it was eleven o clock at night but Kakashi was being burned alive by a rising sun. What a way to go, he thought, and he relinquished himself to the flame pressed so tenderly against him.

She breathed his name like a prayer against his lips, and Kakashi suddenly found his entire universe rearranging to place her at the center.

She pulled away and Kakashi mourned the cold. He could not catch his breath, and judging by the rise and fall of her chest, neither could she. Her hooded eyes and parted lips were the epitome of perfection, and her long, unbound hair fell gently against his forearms. She leaned forward once more, lips pressed against his jugular, as she whispered against his neck.

"You shouldn't hide from the world, Kakashi" and he tried his best to listen to her words more than pay attention to the movement of her mouth against his throat.

"Then again," she sighed, "I wouldn't mind being the only one to know you like this," she pressed herself closer as she settled against him, her hands moved downwards to rest on his chest, "I like being this close to you." The confession resounded loudly in Kakashi's mind, but her voice was barely a whisper. Had he not been keen of hearing, he might have missed the words entirely. Two minutes later, perhaps less, and the blonde seductress was asleep against him.

Kakashi remained in that position for another thirty minutes, attempting to reassemble some kind of sanity amidst the chaos of his mind. He found that he could not establish order and subsequently dismissed the probability of ever achieving such a goal. The woman before him had rewritten his entire existence and stained all of it with gold and orange. He acknowledged that drunkenness perhaps played a significant role in the outcome, that she might wake in the morning riddled with regret, that their relationship might forever be heavied with the awkwardness that was sure to follow, but he found that he didn't care. She walked into his life and gilded it with light, it was only fitting that their kiss held that same brilliance. She ignited him, warmed the dark recesses of his being, and lifted him from the shadows like a phoenix from the ashes. It didn't matter what the morning brought or what the future held, it did not affect nor change his oath to protect her. She was his entire world, and he'd see fit to keep her safe.

With his resolutions clearly set in place, Kakashi gently tucked his student against his frame, rose from his couch, and once more placed her in his bed. He envied the moon that sank beneath her skin and yearned to be that close to her, but with one last kiss upon her forehead, he left her to her dreams.

He closed the door silently behind him, but he did not miss his name as she breathed it into the pillow. Kakashi fell heavily onto the couch, unbound and untethered to everything but the woman sleeping in his bed. Consequences could be damned, he thought. None of it mattered anymore. All that mattered, was her. With all the heaviness of a setting sun, Kakashi fell into a deep sleep. He dreamt of sunlight dancing across cerulean seas, and everything was warm.


	4. The Fourth Occurrence

The fourth time it happened, Kakashi was roused from his slumber by an incessant knocking upon his door. It was quiet but repetitive, and he hesitated before answering it in hopes that whomever it was would just go away. He wearily eyed the clock, bemoaning the early hour. It was four in the morning, it was ludicrous that any person should even be awake, let alone bothering him.

Sighing, he dawned his mask and put on his shirt, drawing out the process in a last attempt for the problem behind his door to suddenly correct itself and leave him to his peace. He was unrewarded for his effort, as the knocks gained in insistence and strength and would soon result in his headache. He begrudgingly slumped his way through his living room and stifled his yawn as his hand grasped the door knob, opening the door slightly enough to peer through the crack.

This proved to be futile, as the dilemma that not-so-patiently "waited" for his attention soon stumbled and lost her balance once again, forcing her entry by falling into his arms. He steadied her in her descent by counterbalancing her weight having learned from the first time she accidentally tripped. He briefly registered how cold her skin felt as her hands fisted themselves in his night shirt. After a few seconds of catching her breath, blue eyes gilded silver in the moonlight rose to meet his questioning gaze.

"I'm sorry" she whispered as if she was afraid to disturb the early morning peace. He mourned the loss of his sleep when he realized there was more to this visit than a simple hello.

"What is it, Naruko?" he asked as he ensured she was stable on her own before moving to close the door behind him, the weather too cold for his liking. If he was forced to remain awake, he might as well be warm doing it. The blonde stood behind him and shivered.

As he waited for her response, he took a moment out to note her appearance. She was soaked to the bone, her sopping nightgown stuck closely to her skin and left very little to the imagination. Swallowing suddenly became difficult as his eyes moved down her form, taking in the fact that her unbound hair looked like melted amber as it fell slickly to her hips. It was only when her body shook once again that he recalled the coldness to her skin. He eyed her warily, waiting not so patiently for the explanation she owed him.

Noticing this, Naruko attempted to speak in spite of her chattering teeth, "a pipe broke in my apartment," she shook her head to rid the water droplets falling from her bangs, "and it won't be fixed until later today, and it's 20 degrees outside, and my clothes are ruined, and I brought this extra set with me but it's wet too, and Sasuke and Sakura are out on a mission, Iruka sensei is not at his place, and I have nowhere else to go" she exhaled in a rush before wrapping her arms about herself in a desperate attempt to preserve some heat.

"I'm sorry I know how early it is," she sniffled as tears seem to pool in her wide eyes. Kakashi hesitated only a moment as the sudden realization hit him. She was going to cry. That absolutely could not happen, as memories of the past rose up before him and chilled his spine. He was wholly unequipped to deal with that this early in the morning, and in a sudden flurry of panic, he had thrown towels at the soaked blonde, grabbed her by the shoulders, and all but lifted her into the shower herself before promptly shutting the door behind him.

He admitted that his actions were probably too hasty and too brash, but for the moment the crisis had been averted. Upon hearing the shower turn on, he tried impossibly hard to not think of the blonde naked in his bathroom, but failed miserably.

Fifteen minutes later, and he heard the shower turn off. Another three minutes after that, a still wet but warm blonde suddenly appeared in his living room in nothing but a towel. Kakashi barely registered the blush on her cheeks before his mind malfunctioned on him. There she was, a being of captured sunlight, _naked_ in his living room inside his apartment _alone_ with him in nothing but a _towel_. He cursed every god in existence for a situation like this and attempted to hold on to what little was left to his self control.

Naruko shifted uncomfortably before him, too embarrassed to voice her request. She had no useable clothes and would not have any until the problem at her apartment was fixed. And while she was incredibly warm and very thankful to Kakashi for saving her from dying as a popsicle, she was now helpless to clothe herself. She was about to plea for another favor from her sensei, when she was stopped mid breath as the door swung open revealing one very shocked hokage.

While he was thankful for the distraction from his improper line of thinking, Kakashi witnessed his life flash before his eyes. The hokage twitched, and he knew he was done for.

Tsunade spared one glance between the jounin in his pajamas and her goddaughter in nothing but a towel before her vision stained red. Righteous fury burned within her palms as they fisted and proceeded to launch themselves at Kakashi. He didn't attempt to intercept her and merely closed his eyes and accepted his fate, bracing for impact. When it did not come, he opened his eyes to see a white towel hugging tan skin. He traced the skin up an elegant arm and a lovely elbow bearing a peculiar freckle to a slender wrist and further to tan fingers curled around a trembling ivory fist.

"No, baa-chan," Naruko exhaled through gritted teeth, "it isn't what it looks like" and shifted her weight to more strongly hold back the punch that tried desperately to continue in its trajectory.

"Let me go, Naruko" the hokage commanded, "you will heed my order!"

"I will not," she growled, "he helped me! You're misunderstanding, and if you'd just relax for a minute I'll explain everything to you but I'm not going to let you hurt someone who came to my aid." The words seemed to do the trick. She felt her godmother release the force behind her punch, and unwound her fingers to let Tsunade go. The hokage huffed indignantly and stepped back.

"Explain, Naruko. You have only a minute before I finish what I started" she demanded as she crossed her arms over her chest.

Naruko gave Kakashi an apologetic look before redirecting her attention to the task at hand. She recounted the events that happened earlier that morning and finished by explaining how she ended up in the living room with only a towel to cover herself. While the two were distracted, Kakashi snuck into his bedroom and contemplated disappearing from the village entirely. He did not trust Tsunade to retain her temper and did not much enjoy spending his morning fearing for his life. However, his student was in need and he did not have it in him to deny her anything. As a consequence of his weakness, he now had one of his old shirts in his hand and returned to meet his demise in the living room.

A grateful Naruko wove one hand around his shoulder in a quick embrace to thank her sensei while the other hand remained fisted in the towel to keep it steadily in place. Kakashi was suddenly overwhelmed by smells of the forest and wildflowers and instantly calmed. However, the moment did not last as he warily eyed the hokage over her shoulder. As Naruko pulled away and all but ran back into the bathroom to change, Tsunade instantly bridged the distance between them.

Her face twisted into something of confusion and appreciation, and her brown eyes simmered with conflict. Within a moment, all hesitation ebbed from her stance and she smiled warmly at the Jounin before her. She reached up to ruffle his hair and laughed.

"Gomen Kakashi-Kun," she giggled at his shocked expression, "you see, I am sorry for jumping to conclusions so quickly. When it comes to Naruko I am just a little bit overprotective" she finished her apology by tapping his nose with a pointed finger. He was still trying to make sense of the whirlwind of her emotions when she blindsided him with what followed.

Her hand moved down to straighten the collar of his nightshirt, an act of familiarity that completely disarmed him. "You're a good man, Kakashi-kun," she patted the area above his heart, "you have my approval." And with that, she was gone from his home entirely, a quiet click as the door fell closed was the only announcement of her departure.

Kakashi settled exhaustedly into his couch feeling defeated as he tried to comprehend the meaning behind her words. He could not fathom why they weighed so heavily in his mind. He was so distracted by his inward brooding that he completely forgot about the blonde jinchuriki in his home. So, when gold hair swished before him and sun-kissed fingers lifted up his chin, he was shocked out of his introspection.

"Thank you, sensei" she smiled as she reached for his hand. He nodded his head, too bewildered by the fact that she was in his shirt and found it difficult to breathe for the second time that day. It only covered her to her mid thigh and hung loosely off her shoulders, giving him unabridged access to her collar bones and the arch of her neck. It reminded him of her lips against his jugular, and he suddenly recalled a certain list. He swallowed roughly and attempted to hide it in a cough, thankful that she seemed to not notice his inward struggle.

An insistent tug once again pulled his attention from his mind to reality as he was lifted out of his seat. He leveled her with a curious gaze as she smiled sheepishly in response. Before she could answer, a rumbling sound emitted from her stomach and she blushed in embarrassment. Kakashi found it endearing as he directed her to his kitchen. He tried to hide his amusement as she sat in a chair and anxiously awaited food. He cooked enough for four people, as Naruko consumed three times the amount of a normal person. A plate of bacon, eggs, and potatoes were placed before her, and she exhaled a hurried "thank you" before immediately diving in to the meal. He removed his mask, the need for secrecy no longer pertinent in the wake of past events, and noticed the blush that once again painted her cheeks with rose. She must remember, he mused, and hid a chuckle behind a sip of coffee. As he ate his portion of the meal, he came to the realization that this was not a bad way to start the morning after all. It was far too easy for them to talk to one another, and they soon found themselves in engrossed in conversation. He refilled their cups of coffee as she regaled him with some of her and Jiraiya's adventures. In turn, he spoke of his and Minato's exploits and she was captivated by the man before her.

It was well past noon when Kakashi finally rose to clear the plates between the two of them. Naruko was contently playing with the ends of her hair as she drawled on about all the lessons she still had to complete before taking over as Hokage. He reminded her of her innate ability to mass replicate herself such that each clone could read a book each and she'd be done within hours. He was taken aback by the sudden rigidity to her shoulders that belied her nimble movements. Between one second and the next, Naruko had slammed her hands against the table and rose in heated determination.

"I will not," she all but yelled, "take the easy way out on this one, sensei. I must devote the time and effort and energy so that I understand every facet. One cannot be Hokage if they cut corners!"

Kakashi found himself wide-eyed before her. Her eyes were hardened sapphires, her lips were set in a thin line, and everything in her stance served to emphasize the edge in her words. However, a piece of bacon hung amusingly in one of her bangs and somewhere in the recess of his mind he imagined her at a meeting between nations looking exactly like this - resolute and serious except for the small leftover breakfast in her golden tresses. The image caused an unbidden laugh to resound brightly throughout the room. Naruko, savior of the world, could prevent calamities and overcome impossible odds but could not manage to keep food from her hair. It was too much, and the dirty dishes sat unattended to as his hands found their way to his stomach as he doubled over in unrestrained laughter.

Naruko felt all stiffness ebb from her spine as she tried to recall a moment when she had ever heard Kakashi laugh. He would chuckle, chortle, or cough, but never laugh like he was doing now. It was so unguarded and so genuine that she was taken aback by how beautiful this moment was, with dirty dishes lining the space between them as the sun poured over the man overcome with merriment. It was happiness, she realized, pure, unbridled joy. The whole room seemed brighter, more surreal, and she knew that if she could freeze any aspect of time, it would be this moment right here. Her eyes softened as she felt a shifting in her heart. Her entire world seemed to place him at the pinnacle of her skies, as if all the movements of the wind and seas suddenly made sense. The darkness she was stranded in since birth was suddenly inundated with the liquid silver light of the moon. And, at one in the afternoon, Naruko finally found something she wanted more than the title of Hokage.

So, with all the care and gentleness of silence, Naruko climbed onto the table on her knees and navigated the plates enough to bridge the distance between her and Kakashi. And, as one of his hands rose to wipe the tears of joy from his eyes, her tan hands stalled them in their path. His fell to his sides in quiet surrender while hers continued in their ascension. One found its reign behind the curve of his jaw bone, right behind his ear, while the other alighted upon his cheek. Her thumb caught the falling tear and gently stroked along his cheekbone, and between one heart beat and the next, her lips eclipsed with his. And, for the first time in all of her years, she felt whole.

She pulled away and his eyes tried to catch hers, but she was already on her feet, standing, turning to grab the dirty dishes. He was at a loss for words as he tried to comprehend the burning and the longing and the sheer need for the woman before him, to remain close to her. To fold her into his arms and entomb her in his heart where she already took reign. But she was turned from him, now, at the kitchen sink, the sound of running water the only noise in the once jovial room. He fumbled for words, for a way to transcend the moment in order to arrive at the next, in order to establish steady ground, but he had no syllables at his disposal. As such, he did the only thing he knew how to do - follow in her lead.

He collected the remainder of the dishes and met her at the sink. She smiled as she held out her arm, silently requesting the plates he held within his own. He placed them in her hands as if they were a peace offering and she nodded in acceptance. She started humming, a song similar to what Kushina used to sing, and the melody made him halt in his actions. He eyed her with all the weight of the world as he tried to dispel the voice and the memories it caused to surface in his mind. He was five years old again in Minato's kitchen, Kushina singing before the stove. She smiled at him, _Naruko's smile_ , he realized, as she read him the recipe. He reached for her in a desperate attempt to preserve the happiness of the moment, but Kushina dissipated before him and melded into the blonde haired, blue eyed ray of sunlight standing before him. He felt like he was drowning, like he was seeing a ghost, like he was an orphan all over again knocking on the door of his sensei's house without ever being let in. He choked around the sob that lodged itself in his throat. He could not reconcile his past with the present, and it was going to be his undoing.

Naruko could _feel_ the turmoil emanating off of Kakashi, but she could not fathom the cause to the drastic change in his demeanor. Anxiety threatened to undo her calm facade, but something in the way his fingers trembled just the slightest steadied her. Kakashi looked young, younger than she had ever seen him, in the way his wide eyes could not shield the pain swirling within them. He was a tornado unbound and untethered, and she realized all he needed was somebody to bring him back to Earth. So she did what she imagined anyone would do in a situation like this, and reached up with gentle fingers to soothe his furrowed brow. He softened beneath her touch and uncoiled some of the rigidity in his spine. She smiled, hummed a sigh of relief, and asked him for the soap in hopes that it would fully irradiate the tension that settled itself in his shoulders. He blinked as if he was coming out of a daze as handed her the bottle and was taken aback when the simple act felt a lot like coming home. Just like that, the heaviness of all the moments before eased once again into companionship and Kakashi was at peace.

Half an hour later, Naruko was dressed in the extra set of clothes she brought with her in the morning that were dried after hours of hanging in the sun. She had received word that her apartment was fixed, and as a result, she needed to return to establish order to the mess that surely awaited her. She hesitated at the doorway before wrapping her arms around Kakashi.

"Thank you," she whispered into his chest, "honestly, thank you. You didn't have to help me today, and I know it was early, but truly Kakashi, thank you."

His arms fell reassuringly around her frame as he gave her a gentle squeeze. He held the embrace for as long as she allowed, and when she began to move herself from his person, he moved his hands to her shoulders and bent down so they were eye level. Grey and crimson collided with the azure waters of her own as he held her captive in hopes she would see just how sincere he was.

"I promised you I would help you," he reminded her gently, "I meant it, Naruko." He leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead, an unbidden fondness necessitating the act before he could stop it. Something about the kitchen anchored him to her, and he was not quite ready to let her go.

Seizing the opportunity, she hooked one of her hands inside of his pockets and tugged. He pulled from her, startled out of the intimacy, as she jumped out of his reach before bridging the distance once more to capture one of his hands between both of hers. Her mischievous smile was the only warning he had before he suddenly appeared in her apartment. He landed not so gracefully in a pile of wet clothes and tried his best to maintain his cleanliness as he attempted to extract himself from the mess. He looked up at the blonde helplessly as she giggled at him in amusement.

"Help me with this, then" she exhaled through fits of giggles, "please sensei?"

She could not help but to pride herself on being clever. Her quick thinking had ensured he would not dwell too much longer in the past after her departure and also secured aid in cleaning her apartment. She was far smarter than she gave herself credit for, and her smugness must have emanated more than she intended as a wet sweater suddenly launched itself at her face and soiled her hair.

"If you have the time to stand there and laugh, you might as well be of use while you're doing it," came the stiff voice of her sensei, "we do not have all day, Naruko."

She tried to stifle the last of her amusement as she helped extricate him from the water-logged laundry that currently entangled him up to his knees. She bounded away from him at the completion of her task and returned with a basket.

"Gomen gomen, sensei" she grinned up at him as she started folding the clothes, "I really do appreciate you volunteering to help me out of another dilemma!" She dodged another flying article of clothing before falling once more to another set of giggles.

Kakashi stifled his consternation at her antics and redirected his focus to the task at hand. As he carefully maneuvered about her apartment, he snuck glances at the woman across the way. The setting sun had gilded her hair the ember of a flame and melted the sapphire of her eyes. The light poured across her skin in a silent embrace, softening her outline so much so that for a moment she looked purely ethereal. He had to stop himself from reaching out to touch her to ensure she was real, and instead focused on her voice as it resonated throughout the room. The familiar song she hummed held him in fond memories instead of the turmoil of his past. And, at six in the evening, Kakashi thought he would clean her apartment a many more times for just another moment like the one they were in now.

She caught his gaze and smiled, the kind she reserved only for him. She was radiant, even as she was now, kneeling amidst piles and piles of laundry with her unbound hair shimmering in the light of the setting sun. Yes, he thought, give him a thousand early mornings and a thousand more messes, he would partake in them all so long as she was in them.

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Author's Note: Hey all! I'm really thankful for the reviews, kind messages, and favorites/follows. I didn't anticipate such a response from the story, but I'm overjoyed at how it's being received! I apologize for the inconsistent upload times - I am in college and I work 20 hour weeks so my schedule is a bit chaotic, and these following chapters take a long while to write and rewrite in hopes that they maintain and improve in quality. I appreciate your patience and look forward writing more and seeing how this story progresses! Thank you for travelling on this journey with me, and I hope it can continue to be one worthy of your time reading :) Feel free to drop me helpful advice if you see things you'd like improved upon, I'm always open to hear constructive criticism!

-E


	5. The Fifth Occurrence

Hello lovely readers, I apologize for the time it took to post something. You see, I had written a chapter prior to this one and did not much like the progression. It has turned out to be quite long (and admittedly more complicated than I anticipated), and so I am reworking the material in hopes that I can put out content worthy of being read. However, I did not have the heart to let this story sit for so long without some love. As such, and in thanks for those who have read/reviewed/followed/favorited, I have decided to write an additional scene. This is the longest of all the chapters, but I thought it fitting due to the duration of time in which I did not post anything at all. I hope you all like it and continue holding on for the next chapter! Enjoy~

-E

* * *

The fifth time it happened, Tsunade's voice all but erupted around Kakashi's name as she summoned him to her office. He heaved a heavy sigh before extricating himself from the shadows to move to open the door. When the door did not give way to his insistent push, he added more force to his flattened palm and clenched his jaw with the effort. Frustration bit at his shoulders as he wished, not for first time that day, that he had stayed home and feigned illness. Anything, he groaned, would have been better than the hassle he was dealing with now. He could hear Tsunade's string of curses, but her voice seemed stifled and he could not reason why. Another hushed voice spoke in whispers, quick in its urgency, but though it was familiar, he could not put an owner to it. He ground his teeth against one another and put more pressure on the door as the wood gave slightly to his strength. It would not be the first time that the door to the Hokage's office had been broken, but he did not want to pay for the damages that would arise from it happening on his behalf.

Kakashi's patience wore thin. Money could be damned, he consented, and his hand folded into a fist. In an attempt to vent all of his frustration, the door splintered beneath the punch that rioted against it. A startled yelp resounded in his ear drums, and in the quickest act of familiarity, Kakashi's arms circled around the falling form, steadying her in her descent.

"Naruko…" he breathed, and the surprise in his voice was eminent. He straightened the two of them before hastily letting her go, thankful for the mask that hid the blush at her proximity. Hatake Kakashi did not blush, and it would be ill suited had Tsunade born witness to the fact that he most certainly did blush, and blush often, when it came to his sunny haired student. Said student suddenly pressed her palms against his vest and all but shoved Kakashi towards the door frame, ushering him out of the room. He resisted, and a grunt escaped her small body as he remained unmovable before her.

His eyes scanned the room and widened marginally at the sight before him. Tsunade was in her chair, held down by six of Naruko's clones. The seventh had her tan fingers over the Hokage's mouth, and shook her head furiously in a desperate request for the angry leader to remain silent. Tsunade's glare fell on the back of the real Naruko's head, and Kakashi knew that had Naruko seen it, she would have gulped. He, himself, was half tempted to, but was once again thankful for the years of practiced stoicism that allowed him to keep his reactions hidden.

"Sensei, _please_ -" Naruko pleaded, but the headache that threatened to bloom behind his eyelids rendered him merciless. Pale fingers rose to encircle her wrists and the gentleness to the act belied his strength. Suddenly the real Naruko was faced away from him, towards the Hokage, while her arms were pinned behind her. He moved so quickly that her hair had not fallen still before his chin was on her shoulder, and with a voice as quiet and steely as a glacier, Kakashi spoke.

"Naruko," he drawled, "pray explain what, exactly, is going on here?" and Naruko flinched as if ice had pooled across her spine. The hitch in her breath was satisfying for Kakashi, and he thought that perhaps today would not be such a waste after all. She did well to hide her trembling, but he was too attuned to her to not notice how much control she had to exert in order to do so. He could feel the acceleration to her pulse and the tension to her shoulders. He knew it was with determination and a wealth of stubbornness that her voice remained steady when she responded to him,

"Nothing really," she said as she shrugged her shoulders for an air of unaffectedness, "Baa-chan and I were merely discussing some, err" she fumbled, and it immediately piqued Kakashi's interest, "girl stuff," Naruko finished lamely, and he knew there was far more to the story than that which she had spoken of. He nodded his head anyways, as if in understanding, before a second Kakashi sprung up behind Tsunade and quickly dispelled the other Naruko's.

The Hokage coughed once around the smoke before rising out of the seat and storming towards Naruko. Naruko backed into Kakashi as he held her captive, and flinched against his chest when Tsunade brandished an accusatory finger in her direction.

" _You_!" she growled as she reached for Naruko's chin, "how _dare_ you! You do _not_ get to use secondary sealing jutsus against your _leader_!" and Tsunade's voice was even louder with the closeness, and felt a lot like crumbling stones. The headache that threatened to bloom before him now bore thorns. He mourned for the days of peace and quiet, when Naruko studied her books and the Hokage signed treaties. Today, he wept, was not one of those days.

Naruko's ire flashed and rose from her form like heat, and Kakashi had half the mind to let her go before her own voice rang like glass in his mind. His ears were sensitive to sound, and the decibels with which the two women were arguing were too high for his liking. He mentally beseeched Naruko to retain her composure, but she did not seem to receive the signal.

"I _had_ to!" she yelled, and Tsunade's glare hardened even further, "this is ridiculous! You were going to tell hi-" and she froze, still as a statue, as her mouth fell closed with an audible snap. Kakashi eyed her sideways as he took the moment to analyze her composure. She did not move to meet his gaze, but a flush dotted her cheek bones. Her eyes shimmered with desperation as she looked into Tsunade's amber colored orbs, and Kakashi could not help but to fall into the trap that laid before him. He knew that whatever was going on would involve him and his assistance in some way, would put more work onto his plate, and aggravate him as everything involving Naruko was want to do. Even still, the flush and the stillness, and the overwhelming need to alleviate any of her discomfort, caused him to shift his gaze from his student to that of the hokage.

Tsunade's form went from rigid to something akin to a victor. Her glare molded into an air of mockery and satisfaction, and the grin that lingered on her lips appeared unfriendly but riddled with amusement. Her stance spelled trouble but Kakashi regarded her anyways,

"Tell me what, exactly?" he lazed, and Tsunade's smile widened.

"Naruko," she intoned, and Naruko shook her head in one last attempt at begging Tsunade to remain silent. She allowed haughtiness to take reign as she claimed one minute of triumphant silence before she finished answering Kakashi's query, "Naruko does not know how to dance."

Kakashi's mind fumbled around the Hokage's answer as he tried to establish sense to the syllables. All of this, he faltered, the clones and the yelling and the woman practically buried against his chest, for the one shred of truth that said woman couldn't dance? What source of foolishness had sunken some of the most powerful beings in the world to this kind of ridiculousness? He spared himself one astonished look at Naruko before returning the same to Tsunade who emanated smugness in waves.

"What?" was all he could muster, as incredulity had turned his other thoughts into ones too inappropriate for the Hokage's office.

"Yes," she spoke around a laugh, "Naruko can't dance. And you, Kakashi, are going to teach her." At this he let Naruko go, and she did not waver from where she stood, frozen by Tsunade's order. Kakashi brought his gloved hands up before him, in a guise of surrender, before shaking his head.

"I can't," he spoke hurriedly, shifting his attention between his blonde haired student and the tawny haired Hokage, "Tsunade I can't I'll find someone else, Shikamaru maybe…" and Tsunade took one threatening step towards him.

"Are you," she spoke with a voice bearing the edge of a blade, "are you denying a direct order from the Hokage, Kakashi?"

And at this Naruko turned, her blue eyes filled to the brim with unshed tears. He wondered how often he had to bear witness to a sight like this one, her ocean-hued eyes swimming with tumultuous waves. He hitched his breath, feeling as if he were drowning, and then heard his relent to Tsunade's question before he registered that he had made the decision,

"No," he sighed, "No Hokage-sama, I am not," and then Naruko wilted where she stood, and he watched as her shoulders slumped in defeat.

Tsunade moved forward, and with a smile that was too brilliant for the sight of the poor girl before him, placed her hands on their shoulders and shoved them together. She stepped back and nodded her head and the words that followed held all the finality of an ending, "Good, good, " she intoned, "Yes, you two will suffice. You two will open the Dance at the sakura festival this weekend," and as if she could sense his impending refusal, she cleared her throat before continuing, "I trust a week is enough time, no?"

Kakashi shook his head in an attempt to reason with her, but Tsunade bore no pity, "You'll have to find a way to manage anyways, Kakashi." And that, he knew, was her queue for dismissal.

Kakashi folded a steady palm against Naruko's back, guided her to the door, and exited the Hokage's office, all the while contemplating all the ways out of Konoha and whether or not he'd extend the offer to flee to Naruko.

They continued on in quiet thought and wound their way to Naruko's apartment, not noticing the odd looks of the villagers that were not used to seeing the two so listless. Naruko unlocked her door without checking that Kakashi followed her in and proceeded to put on a pot to boil for some tea. It was only after pouring the two cups and placing one in front of Kakashi, that she acknowledged his presence at all.

"Gomen, sensei, I tried to reason with her, but she was insistent," as she spoke, she moved to sit across from him. She all but fell into her chair and then moved her hair across her shoulder before running her fingers through it, an act he knew she only did when she was anxious. She could never be still for long, and he watched as the tresses yielded to her ministrations like liquefied gold. For a moment he was breathless, stricken once again by the gold pooling in her lap. Her down cast eyes held the tinge of the night sky. They had never born that shade of navy before, and they were swimming with trepidation.

He leaned across the table to put an end to her actions, and tan fingers found themselves enclosed within a gloved hand. She sighed before lifting her eyes to meet his own, and distantly he begrudged her need to hesitate before doing so. He was not the one who put them in this predicament, and he had a few choice words for the person who had, but both respect and obligation forced him to yield to the circumstance.

"Neh, Naruko," he drawled, "it isn't your fault. Tsunade just enjoys exercising her power when the days are slow." He attempted a grin, though his mask belied the effort.

Naruko shook her head, her blonde bangs sashaying against her forehead before falling in place again as she spoke, "that isn't it sensei," and her voice held the heaviness of resignation, "Hinata-chan taught me to dance once. It isn't that I don't know how to, "and as she continued, her fingers tightened around his own, "It's just that I can't. Not in front of everyone, not with them watching me."

Kakashi did not miss the slight rise to her voice, nor did he fail to notice the increase of pressure against his palm. He brushed his thumb against the back of her hand in an attempt to comfort her. He begrudged Tsunade not for the first time that day and he ground his teeth when he realized it wouldn't be the last. His following words were devoid of the frustration, and instead bore all the care that he could muster, "Now now, Naruko," he soothed, "you know you can do anything. You've proven that more times than I can count."

At this, Naruko unwound her fingers from Kakashi and rose from her seat. Her hands knotted themselves into her hair and clenched, and the strain of such an act was evident on her knuckles. Her barely restrained strength worried him, as he was rather fond of her tresses and did not want them uprooted from her head. She started pacing in a feeble attempt to vent some of her stress, and her teeth ground around the effort of addressing him. "Sensei," she growled, "this isn't a matter of protecting anyone, this," and at this moment, much to Kakashi's relief, she unwove her hands from her hair in order to wave them around in exasperation, "this is ridiculous! This is parading me around in front of everyone in some stupid dress and some stupid heels and just waiting for me to fall!"

Her voice was an octave higher now and grated on his ears. He hid a flinch as he unraveled himself from his own seat. He eyed her warily, slightly unnerved at her wild ministrations before he silently moved towards her. Her right hand arced over his head and he caught it in its descent, his pale fingers secured around it in order to keep it prisoner. She turned, startled at his speed, and nearly bumped into him. Seizing the opportunity, his other hand brushed along the small of her back, pressing her closer into his frame. A quiet "eep" whispered against his chest as her left hand fell upon his shoulder. And, like a flame to candle wax, Naruko melted beneath his touch.

He ignored the shrill of victory that reverberated in his spine and instead tucked Naruko's head beneath his chin. He reveled in the smallness of her stature, how her lips whispered against his throat and her breath ghosted across his skin. Kakashi shifted his weight and Naruko responded, stepping backwards to his gentle lead. They continued like this in quiet succession, and the repetition molded her closer against him. For what seemed like an eternity, they swayed back and forth, two specters dancing in the light of a setting sun.

He pulled back from her for just a moment, and she lifted her chin to meet his gaze. The fading light haloed around her form and sunk into the golden strands of her hair, gilding it with all the hues of an ember. Her eyes shimmered with captured light and held the depth of the Caspian sea. Her lips were tainted rose, her cheeks were stained crimson. He envied the sun for its closeness to her skin and longed to press his lips to it in order to douse her with shadows. She was resplendent and outer worldly, and he knew he was lost to her forever. He felt the full weight of defeat in those eyes, for though she was caged in his embrace, she held the entirety of his heart in her hands. He watched as her eyes fell closed and soon found that his resolve fell with them. Between one heartbeat and the next, his mask was around his neck and his lips were on hers, gentle and soft as petals. She sighed into him and it sounded more like a breath of relief, and it was not lost on him.

Her hands had moved to his chest and clenched the supple leather of his vest and it was all the anchor he needed. The hand at the small of her back splayed and increased its pressure, forcing every inch of her to press into him and it still was not close enough. His other hand wove around the base of her neck, entangling itself in her hair. She rose to deepen the kiss and he lost control. He wanted more, needed more, and soon he found her mouth opening to his own. His brain turned to mush.

He had never been so undone before, never felt as if his veins were replaced with live wire. Every inch of his skin that touched hers felt as if it was being burned and he could not find it in him to care. She could turn him to naught but ash and he would thank her, worship her, and beg her to do it again. She breathed his name and it tasted like hallelujah on his tongue, and he was never one to be religious but there was glory in the way she responded to his touch.

She gasped and he pulled back, forgetting oxygen in the haze of his emotions. Her eyes were glazed over, her face was flushed, and his heart hammered behind his ribs. Distantly he wondered if she could feel it before realizing that the sun had finished setting. She was more luminous than blazing now that the grey of twilight had pooled across her skin. He leaned down for another kiss, and stole one, two, and a third before taking a step back. Every ounce of him mourned the distance, but he doubted his capability to restrain himself if she remained so tantalizingly close to him.

Her hands relaxed on his chest and he bent his forehead to hers in an attempt to regain his composure. He wanted to keep her like this forever, folded in his arms. Safe, sound, and so damn beautiful that it nearly broke his heart. She smiled up at him through hooded eyelashes and a wealth of happiness washed over him. He flashed her his own grin, and felt as she gulped at the sight of him. He appreciated the effect he had on her, cherished it, and for a moment the world spun in leisure peacefulness before her lips parted and she spoke around the silence,

"Neh, sensei," she giggled, "I'm not so certain this is what Hokage-sama had in mind." And as the playfulness took reign over the situation, Naruko vanished from his arms before he could anticipate her trickery. He inelegantly stumbled forward twice before regaining his footing and turned haphazardly in the direction of her voice. A millisecond later, and she was perched on the counter top, her head titled sideways in a mock of innocence. The flush was still evident along her collarbones, but otherwise both had seemed to regain enough propriety to forestall any further complications to their relationship.

He stood up straight and arced a long arm behind his own hair, sweeping his hand along the back of his head in order to feign his own ease. It was a gesture she had known well, what he had adopted to stall heady circumstances and allow for enough time to come up with an escape plan. He knew she recognized the act and had no wish to misalign the events they shared, and as such he offered a bow to the woman bracing herself in the kitchen.

"Shall we try again, Naruko?" at this, her head straightened and she stiffened as if she sensed a trap, "practice makes perfect, after all." He drawled, and before she could shake her head no, he had already grabbed her from off the counter and adjusted her into something akin to a waltz.

Naruko was not one to be offset and had an abundance of annoyance to expel. Soon there were five of her and in response, Kakashi created five clones to partner with them and copy his and her movements. Sensing a challenge afoot, Kakashi rendered eleven more shadow clones. She acquiesced to his challenge and pretended an air of indifference, however Kakashi experienced far too many of her pranks to ever fall for such guile.

They had just finished a set of twirls before Naruko inundated her apartment with well over one hundred clones. The number continued increasing until he was body to body with all of his clones and suffering under the force of maintaining the copies. The pressure increased unbearably so, and he dispelled them in puffs of smoke before falling to his knees and gasping for breath. Only then did Naruko take mercy on him and eradicate the rest of her copies.

She held a steady palm out to him but he declined the offer. He wrapped his hand around her own and instead went backwards. His velocity forced her with him and soon they were laying side by side on her wood floor. Her head rolled onto his shoulder, and the two found themselves bathed in the light of a waning moon.

For a minute, Naruko was speechless as Kakashi doused in all the hues of silver was enough to make him appear impermanent. She felt as though one blink would remove him from her skies entirely, as if he was composed of starlight, as if he could fall from her forever. As such, she felt the need to fold one arm against his chest in a desperate attempt to assure herself of his heartbeat. Only then did she relax against his form, and the process did not go unnoticed by Kakashi.

"Do you," she paused as if tasting her words, "do you really feel up to this, Kakashi?" and for the first time in a very long time, Kakashi found himself unwilling to hesitate. His response was instantaneous.

His voice was as weightless though he spoke with such gravity, "of course," he exhaled, "we've witnessed the world as it fell to its knees, why can't we bear this, too?" He chuckled, a light and airy sound, "Naruko, you saved the planet and all those in it, and you wrought love where hatred once reigned. You are the epitome of hope," at this, he pressed a quiet kiss to her temple, "you are the symbol of beginning, of renewal, of persistence. You could dance like a chicken and people would watch." He smiled then, and she felt his grin as it formed against her skin, "After losing loved ones in the war, the villagers need these festivals to help them continue. They need you to guide their growth. I will be here to help you rise to their necessity. You can falter and I will steady you. I will not change my role in your life, regardless of circumstance."

Naruko settled herself into his form, closed her eyes, and nodded her head. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she spoke next, "I need you," she confessed, and her words were sluggish with the weight of sleep, "I need you."

He tucked her closer against his form, and felt as his eyes fell closed before he gave them his permission. Exhaustion had caught up to him, and as sleep doused his world in darkness, his voice echoed into the abyss, "I need you too".

They woke the next morning in the hands of embarrassment, but soon fell into the familiarity of training. It was simple to conform to old history. Maintain a schedule, perfect moves, and utilize them when the situation necessitated it. Naruko and Kakashi practiced the routine for five days straight. On the sixth, they endured the grueling process of having their wardrobe set in place. On the seventh, the two of them performed in front of the entire village.

To all who witnessed it, it was as peaceful as a receding tide – beauty untethered to all but gravity. Naruko glided and ebbed as if she embodied the waves and Kakashi stepped as if he turned the Earth beneath his feet. She was radiant, clothed in all the colors of the morning sky, while Kakashi bore all hues of nighttime. The two dazzled as reigning heavenly bodies. Watching them dance was akin to bearing witness to the brilliance of an eclipse, and sun met moon with the full yearning of all the hours between them. Their dance ended and the entire audience mourned for more. And though every villager eyed the two with longing, Naruko and Kakashi only beheld one another.

The dance floor opened to everyone else, and the evening passed without a hitch. Naruko and Kakashi turned to Tsunade who nodded her head in gratitude and permission for their departure. The two disappeared in a flume of smoke, sly enough to not draw the attention of anyone else. The music never faltered, the lanterns never dimmed, and many couples danced until the very beginning of dawn. For what felt like centuries, Konoha experienced one night of pristine serenity. And who better to start it but the woman who had saved Konoha in all of its entirety, and the man who had ultimately saved her.

The two were sequestered away back at Kakashi's apartment. He had made both of them cups of ramen before regrettably offering her some of his old clothes for pajamas. She readily agreed and scrambled into the bathroom to shower and change. When she came back into the room, Kakashi hid a gulp. She was weaving her hands through her unbound hair in an attempt to detangle it. That which wasn't ensnared between her fingers hung tightly against her, soaking her clothes so that they stuck to her frame. Her curves caught the moonlight and shadowed the rest of her form, rendering her ethereal. He wondered how it was possible that someone could still look more beautiful now than when she was draped in intricate fabric, makeup, and hair ornaments. It was then he realized that it was because only he saw her like this, in her most unguarded state, derobed of all her boisterous personality that she showed to all others. Here with him, Naruko was more flame than wildfire. She was calm and gentle, sincere about strengths and fears, and open and honest with her insecurities. Here she wore her heart instead of her armor, and upon realizing this, he had a desperate need to shield her all over again.

He walked over to her and folded her in his arms. He picked her up, startled by how slight she seemed, and brought her over to the couch. He settled her into it before leaving to grab the brush she left on his bedroom dresser all those nights ago. He returned to her and she eyed the brush with relief before extending her hand in a silent request for it. He shook his head before sitting next to her. She turned to ask him vocally for it but was silenced when he gently forced her away from him.

"Kakashi," she growled, frustrated at the seemingly senseless point of his actions. Her back was to him now, and he could feel the rigidity in her spine. He hid a laugh before raising the brush and running it along her strands, careful to not pull on a tangle. She flinched in surprise before relaxing into him and the soft cushions beneath her. He repeated his ministrations with tender care, admiring how soft her hair was even when it was wet. It yielded to him easily, and before too long it bore no tangles. Though his beginning task was complete, he continued his actions, relishing in the intimacy of the moment.

Unbeknownst to him, Naruko had fallen asleep halfway through his progress. She was too at ease and too tired to resist slumber's embrace. An hour passed before she breathed his name in her sleep, and Kakashi answered her only to realize she had been dreaming. He yawned and checked the clock above his door and could not fathom how it had come to be six in the morning. He contemplated moving her to his bed, but decided it was best to stay put. He rubbed the back of his hands over his eyes and pulled down his mask, relaxing further into the cushions. He did one last stroke through her long hair before leaning backwards. As he fell once more into the arms of sleep, the brush tumbled out of his hands.

Naruko woke and was taken aback by morning light. She turned hurriedly, worried for Kakashi, before her eyes landed on the man quietly snoring next to her. She smiled fondly at his position. His mask was down, his lips were slightly parted, and one of his hands was still interwoven in her hair. The brush laid on the floor next to his feet, and she buried a laugh before it woke him. He must have tended to her to the very last moment until sleep had won the war.

She was stiff from the awkward position she was laying in and rose as noiselessly as possible in order to crack her joints. She was faced with a dilemma upon realizing that she probably shouldn't make a habit of staying overnight with her sensei. She should sneak home, crawl into her own bed in her own room in her own apartment, and she frowned at the amount of displeasure that washed over her at the notion of such an idea. She scoffed it away, shrugged her shoulders, and returned to her place upon the couch. She eyed Kakashi as she did so in order to not disturb him, but was caught by surprise when she noticed just how young he looked. His hair was the color of snow, his skin pale as if it held the light of the moon, and there was an imperceptible dusting of freckles across the planes of his cheeks, so unnoticeable that it was almost like a secret. He reminded her of a child napping in the sun, unaware of the world that looked upon him. Her breath hitched when she realized he carried the weight of an eternity of loss in his eyes, and it was that alone that made him seem aged beyond his years. Her heart twinged at the thought as she pressed a light kiss to his forehead, careful not to let her now dry hair fall against him. As she curled up beside him, nuzzling into the security of his form, Naruko realized just how deeply Kakashi was entrenched in her heart. And, as she counted his heartbeat at seven in the morning, Naruko wondered if this is what it meant to be in love.


	6. The Sixth Occurrence - Part 1

Author's Note:

Hey all,

I decided to do something a little differently this time. I foresee only one (or two) other occurrence(s) happening after this one and as such decided this was the best way to address the sixth as it is by far the lengthiest of all. I did not want to post a word dump all at once so hopefully this allows it to be read in reasonable segments that break it up enough to do it justice. I am really fond of this story and am impossibly grateful for the reviews, messages, and words of encouragement. I am so relieved that what I've produced here is something you all find worthy of your time. I do not want to you down! As such, here is "The Sixth Occurrence, told in three". I hope you all enjoy it!

-E

* * *

The sixth time it happened, Kakashi was sitting before two cooling bowls of ramen at Ichirakus, having already ordered one for his student as he awaited her arrival. An orange bound book, one of the Icha Icha series, sat well worn between his gloved hands as he sighed tiredly into the pages. It was not like his student to leave him waiting, but he imagined she had earned a few "lost on the road of life" excuses, a habit he had hoped he didn't pass on to his team in the wake of all their years together. The annoyance caused an unnoticeable twitch in his jaw.

He was lifted from his inward musings as Teuchi asked him if he would like to have his bowls heated up. The old man's furrowed brow offset Kakashi enough for him to check the clock on the residing wall. He could not suppress the frown that resulted from the realization that she was half an hour late. Nodding his head in assent, he tried to stifle the ire that rose within his chest. She had never made him wait this long before, and distantly he imagined her arriving before him flustered and apologetic. Perhaps she'd wrap her arms around him and he'd relent to her warmth, the relief at having her back in his life would be too great to ever remain annoyed for long. As the bowls were placed once more before him, he decided to forgive her for trying his patience and returned once more to his book.

Another fifteen minutes later, and Kakashi had to still his tapping foot. Anxiety was threatening to undo his indifferent composure as the book sat unattended to on the bar top. His jaw was taut with the grinding of his teeth and the dull ache did little to assuage his panic. He tried to establish her tardiness to a simple act of forgetting, but he knew she was too intelligent and too aware to ever forget prior engagements. He wondered if something came up or if someone else had occupied her afternoon, but she valued relationships too much to not inform someone of a change in plans. She never wanted someone to feel abandonment and always asked for rain checks when things went awry. Perhaps most importantly, he decided, she never went back on her word, and that left him far more worried when it appeared that, for the first time, she had.

The line of thought had stricken tension throughout his countenance. Pale fingers bit into the edge of the bar as it yielded to his strength, caving in on itself beneath the weight of his worry. Noticing this, he all but slammed more change than necessary between the two bowls and stormed out of Ichirakus. He barely managed an apology before the flaps fell still in the wake of his departure as he stomped his way towards his student's residence.

Arriving at her house, he vented some of his anger out in a series of loud and insistent knocks against her door, his sense of propriety lost in the wake of his frustration. The door yielded before him. He blinked once, startled out of his tirade. His eyes scanned hurriedly across the apartment that lay open before him. She had never forgotten to secure her living space. One too many incidents occurred when she was young to ever let her forget how invaluable locks were against the common man, and old habits, especially ones carved from fear, were impossible to cease.

Kakashi took a hesitant step forward as he stifled the chill of panic that nestled in his spine. The living room appeared to be in order as he catalogued the unbroken valuables that sat still and silent on their thrones. Her residence had always been sparsely decorated and he appreciated her simple tastes for she preferred free space rather than luxuries. It suited the both of them to have the extra room and he valued that her years prevented him from having to throw away spoiled milk and empty ramen cartons any longer.

The moment of serenity and fond memories came to a jolting halt as he noticed just how unnaturally still her apartment was - the afternoon sun had stagnated upon the floor, heavy in its fall. His hand trembled on the knob as he turned it and opened the door to her room. Her bed was made, her clothes were folded, and her plant upon the windowsill had been freshly watered. Everything was as it should be, except for the door to her master bathroom had been left askew. He all but ran into the room, tripped over the door frame, and stumbled onto the tile floor, hitching his breath as his eyes finally caught sight of his student. She laid in a crumpled heap upon the tile floor, her golden hair cascading around her like freshly fallen petals. She was still in her pajamas, those green frogs that grinned up at him belied the severity of the situation. Her face was contorted in something akin to pain, but she did not move. He breathed her name as if it were a prayer, and his voice rose louder and more insistent as desperation took hold of his tongue. He shook her to wake her and choked around a breath when those blue eyes did not open to meet his pleas. He pressed his ear to her chest and prayed to all the heavens for a heartbeat.

When a weak knock rose to meet his ears, he clumsily lifted her up in his arms as anxiety steeled his actions. He looked down at her face just once in sheer need to memorize the curve of her jawline, the fullness to her lips, the golden lashes that brushed against her cheekbones. The breath that followed was sharp and unforgiving as he teleported them to the office of one very startled Hokage. Her eyes fell upon the body nestled in his arms and in the following second, a steady palm was pressed gently to her goddaughter's forehead. A flash of green soothed over Naruko's skin as she analyzed her vitals, and a resulting frown quietly marred the Hokage's features. She tugged once on her goddaughter, lifting Naruko as if she were made of porcelain. Kakashi was shaking as he handed her his student and flinched when her insistent voice boomed out orders. She commanded him to wait where he was as she disappeared from the room with his precious person folded in her arms.

With nothing left to anchor him, Kakashi fell to his knees. He was set adrift in a sea of despair, the guilt and pain threatened to drown him. Teeth tore into the side of his cheek and drew blood as he clenched his jaw. He knew better than to not search for her after ten minutes of being late. Had he listened to his judgement the first time he noticed her unusual tardiness, he might've been there sooner and prevented her current state. She would not have been alone or helpless, she would be smiling at him, soothing his brow, giggling as consternation and a wealth of affection washed across his chest. He resented his lack of judgement and the remorse sat like lead in the pit of his stomach.

Before long, the door behind him opened with a quiet groan, as if it, too, was burdened by the weight of Kakashi's turmoil. Tsunade could _feel_ the agony that rolled off of the man that knelt before her, the mountain crumbling from within its own walls. She paused only for a moment, the gravity of the situation necessitating the act before she forced her limbs to wade through its heaviness.

"Kakashi," she breathed as she knelt before him, gentle hands lifting his chin so he would meet her eyes, "Kakashi, you couldn't have known," she soothed as he flinched at her touch, her fingers warm and soft against his skin. He thought she should slap him for his failure, for letting Naruko down. The thought caused a frown to break across his face. Her fingers moved to run over his brow in attempt to ease some of his tension, "she's in good hands now, she will be okay." She watched as his shoulders sagged, some relief found in the knowledge that Naruko was still alive.

"What is wrong with her?" his hoarse voice rose to disturb the silence as he shook around the question, too afraid of the answer to remain calm. He had never been so unnerved before, never felt so helpless. Sensing this, Tsunade pulled him hastily in an embrace in a desperate attempt to keep him together.

"We don't know," she breathed against the top of his head, arms tightening around him as if to bleed some of her calmness into his form, "she is not responding to any of our tests." He pulled away from her comfort, and she found difficulty in meeting the horrified look to his eyes.

"Why not," he gasped, pain strangling his words, "why isn't she? _How_ isn't she?" Tsunade shook her head, wrapped her hand around his wrist and lifted him to his feet. He staggered and she steadied him though his form wilted where he stood. Stillness would not do for Kakashi, she realized, he needed to see Naruko.

"We are working on answering those questions, Kakashi" she stated as she guided him out of the office. "It appears that Kurama has fallen asleep inside of her so we cannot use any of her chakra channels to analyze her. We can only use the byakugan to ensure proper functioning, and outside of a slowness to them, everything seems to be in working order, " she continued as they arrived at the hospital wing, his quiet steps behind her were the only acknowledgement that he was still with her.

"She is strong, Kakashi," she reminded him as they arrived before another door, and instantly the smell of wildflowers rose to meet him. His chest tightened painfully at the scent. He contemplated running because he couldn't bear to face the woman he had sworn to protect. Had he done as he promised, she would not be in this mess. A hand anchored him where he stood before it moved to open the door before him.

"Whatever this is," she whispered now, not wishing to disturb the quiet of the room as she moved to Naruko's side, "she'll pull through it. She has too much to live for to let something like this keep her down for long." A fond smile crept upon her face as she ran her hand through her goddaughter's bangs.

"She doesn't belong in here," Kakashi sighed as he moved around to the other side of the bed, his gloved fingers resting along his student's wrist as he counted her pulse. He exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding when the slow beat thrummed against his fingers. His following words were tight with remorse. "I should have known better-"

Tsunade leveled him with a glare, immediately putting an end to the sentence that was sure to follow. "I'll have no more of that, Kakashi," she whispered between clenched teeth, "she does not need your self pity. What is done is done," but the harshness of her tone ebbed from her voice when she saw how his fingers trembled against her goddaughter's wrist – Kakashi was afraid, "she needs your faith in her, Kakashi, she needs your support," she bent down to press a kiss to Naruko's forehead, lingering as if to instill her own strength into her loved one, "she needs you to be here when she wakes, because she _will_ wake."

She pulled away from her goddaughter, hesitation marring her fluidity only a moment before she turned towards the door. She was slow in her departure as she waded through Kakashi's duress that was palpable in the small space of the hospital room. There was nothing else she could do to ease him, nothing more she could say that would steady him. She glanced back at his quivering form, watched as his lips continued counting her pulse in devoted silence, and moved to take one last look at her goddaughter before she quietly left the room. She let one tear betray her strength as she hastily wiped it away. It was natural to worry over a loved one, she excused, and proceeded to steel the rest of her nerves. She set off for the hospital labs, determined to pour over old documents in order to procure a cure for her loved one.

It took twenty seven minutes, or 1,485 of Naruko's precious heartbeats, before Kakashi came out of his stupor. He looked around the room, startled at not finding Tsunade present anywhere, and then returned his attention to the hand beneath his fingers. It was paler than he last remembered and resembled the white hospital sheets too closely for his comfort. Her skin did not bear the fresh kiss of summer, but instead the frigid countenance of Winter. He inhaled a shaky breath, remorse once more wreaking havoc throughout his body. The frail echo of her heartbeat in her wrist was not enough for him. He trailed his fingers up her forearm, hesitating at the crook of her elbow in order to find another pulse. Anxiety lessened its coils as the thrum registered beneath his fingers and so he continued his ascent towards her shoulder. His hand was a ghost upon her skin, barely touching, as if it longed to bridge the distance and sink beneath the surface. His fingers took reign upon the arteries in her neck and he held his breath as he waited. His entire being sagged at the steady beat that rose to meet his touch and he shuddered as hope wove loving arms around his regretful and sorry heart.

He brushed his fingers upon her cheek, yearning for the thousandth time, that she would open her eyes and blush that becoming rose color once again. Perhaps then she would not be so still, so pallid, as if all the vibrancy of her existence was washed away, the fire extinguished to naught but the grey of ash. He sighed as he interwove his fingers through the bangs hanging limply upon her forehead, the once brilliant gold pooled as tarnished waves in the palm of his hand. He brushed them to the side and soothed them against the rest of her unbound hair. He then leaned down, pressed his lips to her forehead, and breathed a prayer to all that would listen for her to come out of this soon. This was a torment he could not bear, he beseeched. The sun that anchored his universe, about which all things orbited, had seemingly set from his world forever. The darkness that followed had stolen even the stars from his skies, and he knew that should she never wake again, he, too, would succumb to the shadows.

He pressed a kiss upon each of her eyes, mourning the loss of their endless depths all over again, and swallowed down a sob as he straightened up and away from her. It was with great effort that he tore his gaze from Naruko's frozen features and turned once more to survey the room. He spotted a well-worn chair that seemingly melted into the shadows, as if it, too, regretted the visage of the woman laying before it. He weakly grabbed its arm and dragged it to her side and all but crumbled into its embrace as despair weighed on him with crushing defeat. Trembling hands clung desperately to Naruko's as all composure finally rid itself of Kakashi. And, 35 minutes later, or after 1,925 of Naruko's precious heartbeats, Kakashi bowed his head to the back of Naruko's hand, and wept.

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I felt it necessary to apologize for the cliff hanger. Worry not, Part Two is being edited and will be posted sometime next week (hopefully sooner) 3


	7. The Sixth Occurrence - Part 2

As promised, here is the second part of the Sixth Occurrence. I had lived with this heartbeat of the story for many more months than I care to admit, and I fret that the ending still has many stages left to bloom. As a result and also a forewarning, I ask that you read this and give me the remaining two weeks to finish the last part of the Sixth Occurrence so that it does the first two justice. I have been editing and fine tuning it so it shan't be months that you wait, I promise! Hang in there with me and hopefully it will all be worth it in the end! Much love to those who've stuck around, many fond welcomes to those who are first finding this story, and a whole wealth of gratitude to everyone reading!

-E

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Sleep settled mercifully upon Kakashi. He dreamt of a blue so deep and confounding that he could not put a name to it, could not find an equal. He dreamt of sunlight pooling across every sharp edge, soothing it into something gentle. He dreamt of quiet smiles and twinkling laughter, of stars that never fell, of the world rotating around a fixed point that never faltered, never fumbled, never left his universe. In his dreams, there were no white bedsheets, no hands that glowed green, no loss. In his dreams, he was laughing, cleaning the dishes, smiling at an entity that glowed blue and gold and glimmering. In his dreams, he was happy.

Unfortunately for him, dreams did not last long. The small reprieve ended when a blanket melded against his form, when grey and red opened to the molten amber of Tsunades. The starlight illuminated the unspoken concern. Thin fingers steadied his shoulder to prevent him from rising. "Take it easy," she whispered, an empathetic smile pulled at her lips, "I'm just ensuring you're warm. Try to get more rest, Kakashi, I will return in a few hours."

He nodded his head in assent as she cupped his chin. "I know you're scared," she sighed as she moved to ruffle his hair, "I know how deeply worry has entrenched itself in your heart Kakashi, but," she paused to press a kiss to his forehead, "you have to take care of yourself, too. It would not do to have her pull through only to discover you in the bed in the next room."

As she pulled from him, she smiled fondly at his astonished expression. She did not hesitate to take advantage over his disorientation. She was certain that had he been more awake, he would not have allowed her the affection she bestowed upon him. But, she reasoned, one can always do with more people that love them. A full heart is a happy heart, and it was with this thought that she turned to brush a hand against her goddaughter's cheek. It glowed green for mere seconds at best, sinking beneath Naruko's skin as it pried once more at Kurama's cage. The stillness unsettled her enough to tempt her to take reign beside Kakashi and watch Naruko in her slumber, but she knew it would only hinder him. So, with a quick kiss and a hushed goodbye, Tsunade disappeared beneath the haze of smoke and left Kakashi to his careful observance.

Kakashi finally unwound his hand from Naruko's and winced as he closed it to a fist. He tested the stiffness to the joints and cracked his knuckles until he felt less like a scarecrow made of wood and straw and more like a human. His eyes roved over the form before him and counted the rise and fall of her chest. Even beneath the white of the hospital sheets, her persistent breathing eased a small tendril of fear from his heart. He heaved a heavy sigh as he raked his hands through his hair, deciding for the umpteenth time that the entire situation was wrong. He leaned his head back to alleviate some of the tension that persisted due to the way in which he slept. His muscles groaned against his movements, but he paid no heed to them. His eyes fell unbidden on Naruko as if they hungered to memorize her stillness. He wanted to will her into wakefulness, but such a feat proved to be impossible. He closed his eyes in defeat and fell back into a dreamless sleep.

In the morning, nurses took turns measuring her vitals, adjusting her pillows, and running a cool cloth over her skin. He left for a short while to bring her flowers after fearing he would go insane with the greyness to the woman and the room she was residing in. He only parted after Tsunade promised she would not leave Naruko until he returned. He spent the few minutes out to find flowers that held a mere fragment of her scent and returned to her side. He placed them on the bedside table, admiring the splash of color amidst the dreariness, and envisioned the smile she'd reward him with had she been awake. Such a smile would assuage the lead in his heart for all of the remorse that had heavied it. Such a smile would bring him to his knees out of gratitude for her sheer life once more blooming before him. Such a smile would take him home, regardless of placement. He missed her, longed for her so desperately that it caused a dull ache to take root in his soul.

News of Naruko's peculiar ailment travelled quickly through Konoha and there was not a citizen unaffected by it. There was a heaviness that settled upon the village, a weight that burdened even the youngest children. All festivals were cancelled, preparations were waylaid, and villagers petitioned the hokage for whatever aid they could offer. Lines that wrapped around houses and circumvented the village were endured for the practiced response of, "there's nothing we can do." Tsunade was at once both exhausted and in awe of the devotion they displayed for Naruko. Years ago, she knew, they would have lined up to put the child in further harm. Now adays, they offered everything they had to their names for her. They would turn from the hokage and weep, and never in the history of Konoha had the ground ever born more salt from tears and the burden of fallen knees.

Few were allowed to visit Naruko. Though loved by all and friended by many, only the closest were allowed to see her. Kiba took one look at the grey statue in the bed before growling and breaking the door frame as he slammed it on the way out. Shino stood as still as a mountain, made not one sound or attempt at a word, and did not acknowledge Kakashi before he, too, left. It was only the tension in his spine that told Kakashi how affected he was over Naruko's state. Shikamaru talked to her, ran careful hands through her hair, tucked her in. He knelt close and spoke as if he was telling her a secret, but Kakashi could hear the plea in his words, the begging, the hope. Shikamaru had lost far too many, and the fear and worry belied his quiet voice. Before exiting, he reminded Naruko that he would never get to advise the hokage if she did not rise to the seat and ask him to do it. He shook his head and called her troublesome, an endearment reserved for her alone. It was too much for Kakashi to bear when Shikamaru could no longer hold in his tears. He knew the two were like brother and sister and could feel Shikamaru's suffering as if it were his own. When Shikamaru left, his sorrow remained in the air and it made the simple act of breathing nigh impossible for Kakashi.

The following visitors were easier for him to bear. Lee was enthusiastic and hopeful, his words were insistent upon her strength and tenacity. It was refreshing for Kakashi. The barely tolerable spawn of Gai had somehow filled the room with enough hope to survive the endeavor. When he left, Kakashi almost believed him, almost smiled, almost laughed. Neji came afterwards. His eyes strained beneath the byakugan as he raked them over her form over and over again. Kakashi had to tell him it was futile after ten minutes of determined surveillance. When Neji relented, there was something akin to breaking in the way he sighed. He did not touch Naruko, but Kakashi could feel the despair that Neji wore like a suit of armor. He was guarded from this hurting by wearing it like a shield, but Kakashi could measure the cost. Neji left the room with a wilt to his step and a blade to his heart all the same. Tenten could not walk into the room without weeping. She took one step past the ruined door and immediately turned and ran. Kakashi could not blame her. Had he possessed any sense of self-preservation in his being, he might have done the same.

Ino was harder to bear and caught Kakashi by surprise. She walked in as silent as a ghost. Kakashi might have missed her had she not breathed, "Oh, Naruko…" under her breath, those four syllables held all the undoing that her steady form beguiled. She laid a Peony flower against Naruko's chest, a symbol of healing, before she kissed Naruko's cheek and left the room. It was a silent affair, but it was enough to leave a scar on his already weary heart. Choji sat outside the room. He could not come in but would not leave, and instead brought Kakashi food that a nurse hesitantly handed to him. A note bearing the words "Thank you" was resting atop the platter, and the meaning was not lost upon Kakashi. Choji was not strong enough to face Naruko's illness, but he recognized and appreciated Kakashi's vigilance in overseeing his dear friend. Kakashi nodded to the note, well aware that Choji would never see his response, but somehow felt as if it was resolved all the same.

Sakura and Sasuke came together, their hands intertwined to hide the trembling. Kakashi turned away from the scene, his heart was heavy enough. He heard Sakura fall to her knees and could tell when the sheets were displaced as Sakura buried her head against Naruko. He listened as Sasuke's hand fisted around the bed post, the entire frame buckling beneath the pressure. Kakashi could taste the rust of anger and resentment and remorse that ebbed off of him. There would be no resolution between him and Naruko should she leave this world, and though Sasuke said not one word, he did not need to for Kakashi to understand. Naruko had to live. Naruko was one of his important people. Naruko was his equal. Naruko was his friend, his sister, his test of his strength, the last of his family. There would be nothing without her, and Sasuke's agony threatened to rip a scream from Kakashi's throat. He had his own unraveling, he did not need to bear Sasuke's, too.

Sakura's sobs turned to tearless gasps that strangled her throat. When those settled to whispers of agony, Sasuke half carried and half dragged an unwilling Sakura from Naruko's form. The pink-haired girl repeated Naruko's name as if it were a prayer, over and over again, each time more unbearable than the last. He could still hear her down the hall. He could hear her after she left. He could hear her even after he was certain she was home. She levelled Naruko's name with a brokenness that splintered in his brain even when she was out of earshot.

Hinata visited and stayed for an hour. She was the steadiest, the most unerring in her voice and actions. She brought in a chair, acknowledged him, and gently took one of Naruko's hands. Then, much to Kakashi's surprise, she read to her as if she was simply sleeping. Hinata bore none of the doubt that riddled the entirety of Konoha. She spoke with a certainty that could calm the seas. The sun had set three hours ago, and Kakashi found himself tired as he listened to her voice. Before long, his eyes fell closed to the sight before him. Hinata was relieved when she noticed his slumber. There was no doubt in her entire form that Naruko would wake and smile once again, that she would hang every fallen star back atop its throne and douse all of Konoha with her brilliance soon enough. She had wanted to do something to ease the man who kept a careful watch over her hero and knew that reading would alleviate some of his turmoil. A quick kiss to her hero's forehead was all the luxury she spared herself before she rose to take her leave. As the door closed behind her, she said a prayer of gratitude towards the sky for Kakashi and Naruko having one another. Circumstance did not matter if the love was true, and the visit lent her to believe that it was.

He was startled from his slumber when Tsunade burst into the room, gasped around his name in startled warning, and then remained open mouthed and silent as Kakashi felt the full weight of murderous intent scathing throughout the room. Sand rose from the cracks in the wooden floor and he understood the meaning behind it. He took one glance at Tsunade in silent request for her to remain with Naruko and then disappeared from the room entirely.

He appeared in a clearing behind the hospital. Across the way, a crimson haired man turned and levelled Kakashi with a glare that would have stopped entire armies in its wake. He hid a shiver as Gaara's anger washed over him as wildfire, singing every ounce of his being with its resentment. It was merciless and all consuming, and Kakashi did not need words to understand why. All the same, he nodded his head in polite greeting, feigning cordiality if only to prevent Gaara from halting Konoha's restoration by uplifting the entire ground beneath it.

"Gaara," Kakashi drawled lazily as he took a cautionary step towards him, "so nice to see you again. Pray tell, how is Sunagakure?" In an instant, Gaara was before him, hand against Kakashi's cheek in a punch that would have cracked bone had it been dealt with the intent to kill. Kakashi recoiled but did not fall, and as he straightened his spine and steadied his stance, he shrugged as he spoke around the blood that pooled in his mouth, "Mah, Gaara. So quick these days," he sighed around the words, exhaustion belying his forced aloofness, "Feel better now?"

His mocking had the desired effect. Gaara settled the angry granules of sand that kept buffeting Kakashi. He allowed some of the tension to leave him and some of Gaara's resentment ebbed from his form. It was less oppressive but he knew very well that one wrong word would undo it all, and when Naruko woke she would be very displeased to discover that the two had fought. He would take the punch and endure the conversation and hopefully bring Gaara to her room in a much more rational and less violent state of mind. Gaara's hands balled into shaking fists as he finally rose to meet Kakashi's eyes. Kakashi stiffened at the sight, as his sea-green eyes reminded him of Gaara's first visit to Konoha. They bore the sharp edge of unpolished emerald, and Kakashi could almost feel them cut through his person as they searched for answers he did not have.

"I didn't hit you hard enough," Gaara's voice rose to disturb the silence and felt like steel wool in Kakashi's head, "I should do a lot worse to you," his voice fell low and sounded like sifting sand, putting Kakashi on high alert. His stanch shifted, there was more weight in his heels. "You promised me," he ground out between clenched teeth, "you promised me you would protect her," Gaara's eyes steeled over and darkened as he took a menacing step forward towards Kakashi, "Why is it then," he whispered, and Kakashi felt the Earth rumble, "why is it that she is _here_ , if you made such a promise?"

The clearing fell silent as if it were holding its breath. Kakashi inhaled and choked around his following words, "I didn't know," he whispered and his voice shook with remorse, "I did not know, Gaara –" and Gaara erupted.

The ground lifted around them, groaning with agony as the surrounding trees were ripped from its belly. The wood splintered and joined the fray as sand turned tumultuously throughout the clearing. Not an inch was spared from the wreckage, and Gaara's howl of rage cut through the air like sharpened blades, "You did not know!" he roared and lunged at Kakashi, "THAT is your excuse for this?!" he yelled as he landed another punch against Kakashi's ribs and Kakashi felt them break beneath the force, "THAT is why she is _here_!" and a kick rang against his stomach, causing him to double over in pain, "You promised!" he screamed as he ascended into the air and a well placed knee rioted against Kakashi's chin. His head fell back and he saw the blue of the sky as he fell to the ground. It did not match her eyes, he mourned, but Kakashi did not move to stand.

"You promised…" Gaara broke around the words and the force of his anger followed suit. Torn trees thudded to the ground and sounded as hollow as the man that ripped them to shreds. Sand and stone rained upon the two of them, brushing against their skin in a quiet apology. Gaara could no longer bear to stand. Misery stole the fight from his limbs, forcing him to yield to its demands. He sat on the ground and brought his head to his knees. He took heaving breaths but could not bring himself to speak.

Kakashi turned his head to the side, feeling the gravel give way beneath his cheek. It caught in the blood that poured down his face. Tired eyes fell upon the vision of a child in mourning – a red haired man with shaking shoulders that belied his silent sobs. He could not pretend to understand the depth of Gaara's feelings for Naruko. She had lifted him from the darkness, carried him back from the dead, and befriended him in spite of all the blood on his hands. She had loved him, Kakashi knew, but it was born from the same loss, isolation, and desperation shared in their childhoods. Kakashi could not fault the two for being so attached, and though their friendship was shared across thousands of miles, he knew just how precious it was. She had risen Gaara from the destruction of loneliness and paved the path to love. Gaara embraced it wholly, had made amends with his people and most importantly his siblings, and took reign over Sunagakure. The village loved him and he them, but Kakashi knew he did it for her. Gaara wanted to deserve her friendship, needed it, craved it, and set out to pursue it. When he told Naruko this, she had kissed his cheek and giggled, telling him that he already had. The look he gave her was one levelled with both admiration and shock, and she took his hand and demanded Ichiraku's as compensation for Gaara's silliness. The memory felt so distant now, as if it existed somewhere beneath the horizon, buried with the rest of the light that disappeared the minute Naruko had fallen still. Had he not been so spent already, he might've wept right there beside Gaara.

Deciding that it was probably best to not be so distracted, Kakashi took note of his injuries instead. He pressed a hand to his side as he rolled to sit up, hitching a breath as the pain tore at his body. Gaara lifted his head at the sound and watched as Kakashi cleaned the blood from his face, frowning at the amount. His eyes finally caught Gaara's and wordlessly expressed his distaste for the mess around them. He had liked this clearing, it was one seldom used by others and therefore perfect for his own contemplation. Now, it rested in tatters and Kakashi was not pleased. He had fully anticipated Gaara's resentment, but did not account for the volatility.

"Why," Garaa's voice sighed into the silence, filling it with a gentle baritone that no longer harbored the unforgiving grit of anger, "why did you not defend yourself Kakashi?" He watched as the silver haired man shrugged his shoulders, an air of laziness once more settled about his frame.

"I figured I deserved it," Kakashi admitted as a fresh wound pulled at the stitches in his heart in the wake of his admittance, "I let her down, I let you down, someone had to bestow the proper repercussions."

Gaara eyed him warily, measuring the weight to his words. The haunted look in Kakashi's eye and the hidden rigidity in his spine made Gaara trust him. He rose from his seat and faltered only once before he turned to help Kakashi stand. Kakashi accepted the help but was stalled as Gaara rested a hand on his shoulder.

"You are an idiot," Gaara grinned, but the exhaustion and despair did not let the smile reach his eyes.

"I know," Kakashi wearily answered. He watched as Gaara bowed his head to stare at the ground.

"I am sorry," Gaara whispered, and the sincerity emanating off of him was tangible, "I should not have accused you, I know…." His breath hitched with emotion, and Kakashi found it hard to listen to his voice when it sounded so sad, "I know you'd have helped her if you could, I know she is here and safe because of you," and he shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of the sorrow, but as he turned to meet Kakashi's gaze, torment churned in his eyes.

"Thank you," he said as he finished helping Kakashi rise, and the words held the weight of the world, "thank you for protecting her." And though Kakashi stood still as stone, it felt as if his heart had crumbled.

The two limped their way through the darkened corridors of the hospital wing as if beaten by more than the expenditure of energy and the heaviness of fists. They hesitated before the door to Naruko's room before opening it to reveal her unmoving form. Gaara flinched as if he were struck and took a step in retreat, but Kakashi's hand fell upon his upper back and all but forced him inside. When the two were clear of the frame, he sealed them in the silence of her hospital suite before returning to his chair. Grey and Crimson scanned Gaara's form in an attempt to ensure he would stay to pay his respects, but he could not focus for long. His gaze constantly fell to Naruko as he measured her breaths. He envisioned her opening her eyes and throwing her arms around Gaara as she was want to do whenever he returned to Konoha. He would stifle the ire and the jealousy if she would just lift herself from her slumber enough to cause it.

Gaara stayed rooted to his spot before the sleeping girl. He could feel Kakashi's eyes flicker from him to Naruko, but did not find enough annoyance to care. There was only agony known to his heart as his beloved friend did not move to wrap her arms around his form, did not yell his name into his ears as if he were deaf, did not giggle against his chest as he held her in fond hello. She did not smile with unshed tears at the sheer joy of his presence. She did not ask him how everything faired, if he was healthy, if he was happy. She did not shackle his wrist as she all but drug him to Ichirakus. No, instead she lay still as if made of stone. When his fingers finally moved to brush against her hand, he froze mid action and winced at the cold. She was always warm to the touch, feverish, almost unbearable to be near for long, as if she was a flame that was too bright and too blinding that it would incinerate him where he stood. This stillness, this coolness, this silence, was not the woman he had come to love. The girl before him was not, could not be, his Naruko.

When emerald eyes widened and fractured with horror, Kakashi cleared his throat to break the impending undoing. Gaara turned to him with more force than intended and stumbled before righting himself. Kakashi's whisper sounded hazy through Gaara's fear, but he caught the words all the same. "Tsunade says she's alright," he droned on though he seemed far away, "that she's stable, that she'll pull through."

The words eased some of the fog that settled in Gaara's mind. Loneliness had clouded his judgement. He was quick to volatile anger and even quicker to despair. Hearing that she was stable soothed some of his turmoil and allowed him to think clearly. He jerked his head in a nod of understanding and returned his focus to Naruko. He called upon Shukaku in a silent request to see if he could pry at Kurama's door. When Shukaku's giggle faltered and ended in a frustrated grunt, Gaara's shoulders sagged in defeat.

His voice came out gravelly, roughened by unshed tears and frustration, "Even Shukaku cannot reach Kurama."

Kakashi nodded heavily, the small ounce of hope he harbored fell to the pit of his stomach, "Chakra channels can't seem to reach her," he sighed around his following words, exhaustion burdening his intonation with sluggishness, "all we have is the byakuugan, and though she appears to be relatively unharmed, it doesn't help us see what is keeping her under."

Gaara allowed his form to wilt as he regarded Kakashi. He was thankful to the man for keeping watch over Naruko regardless of how futile it seemed. Dark circles haunted the space beneath his eyes and there was a gauntness to his face. He was not sleeping, he noted, not well enough to rejuvenate him. So, Gaara did the only thing he knew to be beneficial to the both of them, and allowed Shukaku to release enough chakra to lull Kakashi to sleep. It was sudden, without warning, and took very little energy as the white haired jounin casted him a startled and angry glare before sinking further in his chair as his eyes fell closed.

Relief coursed through Gaara as he took reign upon the edge of the bed. With no audience to bear witness to his actions, he was free to release some of the anxiety that had built up inside of him. He did as Kakashi once did and measured Naruko's pulse, counted her breaths, and tucked her further into bed. He ran pale fingers through her tawny hair and longed for her vibrancy to illuminate the darkness of his world once more. He pressed his lips to her cheek and breathed her name against it, beseeching her to open her eyes. When her form remained unmoving beneath him, he nuzzled into her neck and wept like a child. The loneliness that bloomed in his chest bore nothing but thorns as it strangled his heart. He felt as if he were six years old again, as if love had betrayed him and threatened to end his life. He came up from her neck gasping for air, choking around her name as he swallowed the bile that rose in his throat.

And then, all at once, Gaara fell still. His watery eyes caught sight of something he had not noticed before. A chain peeked up at him from the dip in her collar bone, glinting as if demanding his attention. He gingerly lifted it from the collar of her hospital gown and untangled it from the stone the hokage had given her. It was a small necklace, but one Gaara recognized with astonishment. From the silver chain hung the glass charm he had given her years ago when she brought him back from the Akatsuki. When he had lifted her hand to shake it in a sign of companionship, he had nestled the gift against her palm. He did not think she would keep it, let alone wear it around her neck. He had made it himself, carefully, by soothing sand into the shape of the Kanji symbol for friendship and heating it tenaciously until its golden granules liquefied to glass. He had let it harden and carried it around with him. It was in his pocket the very minute Shukaku was ripped from his chest. It was his anchor when his soul was adrift in the afterlife. It brought him home when she pulled him back from his ending. He valued it more than he valued anything in the world, and when he gave it away to her, it was akin to handing her his heart.

Fondness soothed over him as he let the pendant fall beneath her collar once more. She must return his feelings to have worn the pendant so close to her heart, to have protected it all these years. Their friendship had withstood time and distance and the great tragedies of life. They had both come back from the dead and lived to see one another again. This time, he reasoned, would be no different. She would open her eyes, smile her smile, and lift the world into another daybreak. Shukaku and Kurama would once again laugh in easy comradery and the hero of Konoha and the heart of Sunagakure would forever work together to maintain worldwide peace. This would not be where their friendship ended, he was certain of it.

With one more kiss to her forehead, he lifted himself from the bed and left Kakashi to his rest. He found his way to Tsunade's office, offered fair compensation for the damage to the clearing, and thanked her for taking care of his friend. Tsunade's knowing smile unnerved him but she nodded her assent for his departure and wished him and Suna well, promising to inform him of the very minute Naruko awoke. With a bow of his head and a quick oath to return again, Gaara disappeared in a whirl of smoke and sand, leaving the Hokage's office filled the brim with the scent of desert blooms.

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Another cliff hanger, my sincerest apologies. Stay resilient, time will pass quickly once all my exams are out of the way!


	8. The Sixth Occurrence - Part 3

Alright Lovelies - first, I am SO sorry. Words cannot express how deeply apologetic I am. I had this written and mostly edited and set to publish probably midway last month. My computer somehow corrupted the file, I could not retrieve anything I had written, and as such lost this part of the chapter and the half-way completed Seventh Occurrence :( It took a lot of heart for me to write anything at all, and it took even more to write this all again. I had to save what I could from fanfiction and I now have the story backed up on multiple devices. I am so sorry that it took so long to finish this part of the story. It took nearly everything I had and then some just to try and do the story twice. As such, this doesn't feel as good as the first edition, so I will probably edit it some more. I just couldn't let September pass without holding a piece of this story in the hollow of its palms. I will attempt to write the seventh again, or I'll do something different. All the same, you all carry my heart and gratitude, and I'm thankful for your continued support, kind words, and attention. It was the necessary drive I needed to rewrite this again. I hope this version was worth the wait, I hope it eases some of the tension. I am in love with this pairing, I hope I take you all further into it with me.

It is also the longest of all my chapters. Take a deep breath before delving into its depth.

As always, criticisms are welcome, reviews are appreciated, and I am incredibly grateful for all the support -

All my love,

-E

* * *

The days that followed were seemingly endless as the village continued with its restoration. Villagers took longer now to do their tasks, their efforts were distracted by the state of their beloved hero. They knew that she would encourage them to continue in spite of hardship, and as such, they did their best to persist.

Naruko's room was never empty. Ino would deliver a new flower every morning. The blooms ranged from alstroemeria flowers meaning friendship, more peonies for health, and gladiolus blossoms meaning strength. Neji, Lee, and Tenten came in afterwards and filled the room with chatter so that the woman was not left in silence. Tsunade would sit with Naruko and tend to her so that Kakashi could use the time to leave and take care of himself. She would brush her goddaughter's hair and clean her skin and before dusting her pale cheeks with blush. She had hoped that the rouge color would return some life to her skin. Kakashi would use the time to shower and bring Naruko back small parcels of Konoha, be it a stone from their favorite training grounds, pebbles from the rivers, or wildflowers from the surrounding clearings. He knew that even in her stagnant state, she would not want to miss out on the village and all it had to offer. He would place the valuables on the tables throughout her room, lifting the greyness from its dreariness by bringing the world to the woman who could not rise to see it.

Sakura soon found the strength to not weep every time she entered the room and sat beside Naruko to tell her about her days, the way the two teammates once did daily over tea at four in the afternoon. Sasuke would come with her, keep a steady hand on the pink-haired woman's shoulder, and stand resolutely behind her with eyes trained on his teammate. The stoic-faced Uchiha would nod once in Kakashi's direction before exiting. It was the only sign of acknowledgement the two spared one another. Choji would bring Kakashi lunch. Shikamaru would force him to play a game of shogi before ruffling Naruko's hair in his departure in a last attempt to spike her ire enough to forcibly wake her. Shino kept a beetle under Naruko's pillow and continually evaluated her chakra levels in an attempt to derive abnormalities amidst the constant surveillance. Often times Neji would return to her side to analyze both the beetle and Naruko, ensuring that nothing went awry. Kakashi would track him with a lazy eye, feigning distraction in order to let the young hyuuga do his task in peace. Kiba did not show again, but Akamaru came to snuggle the sleeping girl during Hinata's visits to keep Naruko warm. Hinata would arrive in the late evenings and read to both her and Kakashi, lulling him into a light sleep. She would squeeze the back of Naruko's hand in an attempt to instill her strength into her companion and beseeched her to wake soon. Konoha was wilting in her absence.

When night passed and all others were nestled into their homes, Kakashi would stir from his slumber and proceed to press his forehead to the back of Naruko's hand. He would count her pulse, press a kiss to the vulnerable skin of her wrist, tuck her in, and breathe her name against her forehead. He would then fall back into his chair, heavy in his defeat, and sleep in the same beginning posture – head to the back of her hand, as if he were a sinner begging for mercy. Though he woke with cramps in his muscles and agony muddling his joints, he could not sleep without her hand enclosed in his own. It was both his salvation and his penance and he endured his sentence religiously.

It was with a this quiet desperation that Kakashi maintained his watch. Naruko was worsening with the passing of each day. She was thin, too much so as he could see both the bones in her wrist and the exaggerated hollows of her collar bones. Never in his time of knowing Naruko had the girl appeared dainty, but these days she was devoid of the strength that once encompassed her form. Her muscles were deteriorating from disuse, her skin had turn paler than even his, and her lips were cracked and dry despite all the care Tsunade had given her. She looked as if death had kissed her and doused her in all the shades of decay. There were no breakthroughs, no discoveries, no successful attempts at curing her. Four weeks had passed and each day took another piece of Naruko with it.

With the passing of time so too went Kakashi – he slept but did not find rest, he ate but could not stomach the food, he rose only to fall back into his chair with all the weight of defeat bearing upon him. He ceased and stagnated right there with Naruko, and in one fell swoop Konoha lost both its hero and her silver-haired shield.

Tsunade had sequestered herself away when she was not with her goddaughter. She herself bore all the countenance of when she had lost Dan, Nawaki, and Jiraiya. Her once certain steps now faltered. Her steady hands could only tremble as they clutched around a glass of sake. The hokage tower had closed its doors for she was incapable of bearing the guilt at being so weak in the face of the entire village. Konoha lost its hero, her shield, and now their leader, and the gravity of the situation threatened to undo the village from its core.

Every day became more daunting than the last, every moment felt more futile. Restoration fell to a lull as eyes were turned to the hospital ward, waiting for their hero to throw open its windows and rain sunlight on all the grey.

For Naruko, there was only silence. Then, amidst the darkness, a flash of light. A glint of obsidian and garnet eyes, silver hair, a laugh that sounded like Summer rain. A gentle touch, a warm caress, a breath shared between parted lips. And then, like the first bloom of spring, a name – _Kakashi_. That's right. She had a date, no an outing, with Kakashi. She had to be careful with what she labelled it, she reminded herself, otherwise he would scare away. She didn't want him to scare away, for without him she harbored an aching, a longing, and with him she was whole. She was happy. That was before the darkness, before her world went black.

But the room spun beneath her feet, her eyes couldn't focus. Startled, she called out for Kurama, her voice breaking mid heartbeat. He was falling from her, away from her, further into the darkness. She extended her arms to reach for him, to catch him in his descent. Her tan fingers were swallowed by the abyss, then her wrist, her elbows, and soon there was not but black.

Now here she was, displaced amidst the memory. She knew she had to find Kurama, understood that it was the only way to get out of this place, but she couldn't pull herself from the darkness enough to do it. She opened her mouth to call out for him but choked around the emptiness. She would rise to her feet only to sink further. All her attempts at rescuing herself failed, the energy bled from her fingers, all strength seeped from her bones. She curled in on herself until all she heard was her heartbeat. She wept, feeling as if she were an orphan all over again - child without a home, an outcast, a demon. There Naruko stayed, entombed in years of loneliness.

And then, somewhere beyond the darkness, she heard him. His voice sounded leagues away, but he repeated her name, once, twice, a third time, and suddenly it washed over her like a wave. She could hear him as if he were breathing against her skin, and at last she was aware of more than just the darkness. There was his touch at the crook of her elbow, the trembling against the arteries in her neck. Her name sounded more and more aching as he breathed it against her forehead. His lips shook as they haunted her cheek, his hand reverberated around her own, tethering her to the reality she could not rise to see. _Kakashi_. And all at once, the loneliness was unshackled from her heart.

It was peculiar for Naruko. She wondered if perhaps someone had sealed away her consciousness. She expanded her mind, searching for foreign chakra but found none. She did not know of a jutsu that could keep someone unconscious yet maintain their awareness of the reality around their body. She pondered the probability of it being a genjutsu, but all her attempts at releasing it ended in another defeat. If it was an outside force that entombed her, then Naruko gave the user credit for being cunning enough to remain undetected. Even still, Naruko was not one to give up and so she spent her time attempting to find her way out of her situation.

When Naruko learned there was no awakening herself from within, she devoted her energy to focusing on those around her. The wetness of tears fell upon her skin, the softness of the petals of Ino's flowers brushed along her chin, the hands that reached for her were gentle and nurturing. She could hear Hinata as she read and Sakura as she regaled her days, she responded to them in kind though they could not hear her in turn. Naruko would even growl as Shikamaru ruffled her hair. There was a tense atmosphere to the room she was in, she could measure the despair that waged its wars with hope. She sighed when it faltered, when Kakashi bowed his head to the back of her hand and wept. Her heart broke when there was nothing she could feasibly do to soothe him. All her life she had increased her strength to protect those she loved. It worried her when, for the first time in all her years, she was absolutely helpless.

Gaara's howl of rage splintered the darkness. The blackness erupted with all the hues of red. It was unbearable, causing Naruko to clutch at her chest in order to try and ease her agony. Until, all at once, she felt it - Shukaku's insistent touch, the echo of his laughter as it lifted her out of the darkness and into another consciousness. She could open her eyes again. The world around her was blinding. She had lingered for so long in blackness that this mind scape was too brilliant to behold at first. Her eyes ached as the colors blurred together until they oriented themselves into understandable shapes. She finally recognized it as the home in which Kurama lingered deep within her brain.

Naruko stumbled to her feet. It took her three tries before her knees stopped buckling beneath her and she could walk without faltering. She looked at the scenery before her and smiled fondly at the memory of her and Kurama "redecorating" the space. There was no longer the sewer-like canal riddled with iron prison bars. There was grass beneath her feet, a sky so blue it matched her eyes, and an endless expanse to the horizon littered with trees. He had devoted some of his chakra into increasing the space, and every day there was something new to be seen. It made it bearable for him, and allowed he and Naruko the quiet necessary to reconnect with one another.

She searched the place that spread out before her, desperate to find Kurama as soon as possible. She wanted to ensure he was okay, as her last memory was that of him falling away from her. As her worry for his wellbeing spurred her onwards, so too did the guilt at the place Kurama was originally imprisoned in. She wanted to nuzzle her face against him, press a kiss to the tip of his snout, and ask him for his forgiveness. Only then would she attempt to awaken from the state she was in. Only then would she allow herself to move on.

After what felt like miles, Naruko finally found Kurama. Her voice was hoarse from calling out to him and she had panicked when he did not respond to her. She understood why as she approached him – Kurama was asleep. Her attempts to wake him proved to be futile as he did not stir. Frustrated, she attempted to utilize her chakra channels. When her familiar power did not rise to meet her demand, she wove her hands through her hair and yelled.

Deciding that a tantrum was not the best use of her time, Naruko huffed as she settled herself in against Kuramas neck. She intertwined her fingers through his fur and appreciated the softness to it. It was a burnt orange color, the hue of a lit coal, and was warm to the touch. She stroked behind his ear and giggled as it twitched beneath her hand. It was only when her fingers gently stroked his cheek that she realized just how exhausted she had become. She breathed his name as sleep overcame her form.

The dreams she dreamt were not her own. There was a young fox kit surrounded by eight other beasts. The sage of sixth paths stood before them, Hagoromo's old voice reverberated in her head. The scenes shifted. Kurama abandoned his siblings, dubbing himself the most powerful for he had nine tails and they had less. Another shift, and Kurama became a calamity, tearing entire countries asunder. In the next, Madara took reign and subdued him, utilizing the crimson haired fox as a walking devastation. Kurama writhed against his control but was helpless to Madara's whims – the once mighty beast was now just a means to an end. When Hashirama Senju freed him, Kurama almost thought to thank him, but the Senju had other plans. Upon the defeat of Madara, Hashirama ensnared the powerful fox and bound him in chains to Mito Uzumaki, the first of his Jinchurikis. Kurama fought against his chains, bit at the walls of his prison, and roared at his captor. He was met with naught but silence.

Naruko watched as the scenes changed, bore witness to Kurama as he transitioned from Mito's watch to that of her mother, Kushina. Again, Kurama was bound behind bars and entombed in silence. Naruko could not fault the fox for turning so cold, he had nothing but his hatred to keep him company as the years passed on. She, too, would have succumbed to hate and malice had no one acknowledged her.

Her musings came to a jolting halt as the sound of a startled cry ripped through the dream. She gasped at the scene before her. Kurama's claw pierced through both of her parents, a baby wailed as blood rained upon its innocent skin. Her mother's hair fell forward as if it were reaching for the infant, her father choked upon impact. His golden locks went still as his chin landed on her mother's shoulder. His smile pooled crimson, his eyes went dim. Naruko gasped, extended her hand to reach for her parents only to pull it back against her chest. She fell to her knees, brought her palms to the side of her head, and shook with all her might to erase the memory. It hurt too much, she wept, it hurt, it hurt.

The memory dissipated. Kurama was before her, his countenance held naught but remorse. He wove a tail around Naruko's form in quiet apology, beseeching her to open her eyes. When she finally looked at him, he found that he could not bear the horror in her gaze.

His usual steady voice was tight with guilt "I can't move past this moment," he owned, his words trembling with each syllable, as if the very act of speaking was enough to break him "I see all the ways in which I failed you and it didn't matter back then," a pause, and in the distance a howl resounded – the sealing of Kurama inside her belly, her own seal pulsed achingly at the memory, "I didn't know," he shook his massive head as if he were trying to dispel his actions, "I didn't know, Naruko." The giant fox placed his head between his paws, shielding his face from his keeper before him, "It is all I see," his breath shook as he tried to quiet his despair, "it is all I see now".

Naruko's eyes fractured, those brilliant blue orbs held all the turmultous depth of the Caspian sea. She witnessed it firsthand, the very moment the life left her parents, their blonde and crimson hair still had not fallen still before the light left their eyes. What a sacrifice, she mourned, her parents for a demon – no reasonable person would ever agree to it. She didn't make the choice, she wept, she didn't make the choice. And now, she wondered, how would she ever unsee the death of her parents? How could she erase a memory that stood stark amidst the darkness behind her closed eyelids? She dug the heel of her palms into her eye sockets, desperate to displace the image. It remind blinging as ever.

Her heart crumbled to pieces in the hollow of her chest, her breath caught in her throat. A distant whimpering echoed in her ears, the sound foreign to her brain. Her hands fell from her face and rested helplessly by her sides. She blinked once, twice, and focused on the visage before her. Kurama's ears were backwards, his face was contorted in pain. His massive shoulders shook with the weight of his agony. He was _crying_. Naruko gasped around his name, scambled to her knees, and reached out a quivering hand that found its roots in the soft fur of his face. She pressed her lips to the space between his eyes, and repeated a broken mantra of, "Oh Kurama…" over and over again, her own voice wet with sorrow.

How sad it was to her that the entire time she only beheld her own loss and never once considered the toll it took on Kurama. He, the ember-hued fox robed in eternities of power, bound to a human mortal that never once looked his way for three lifetimes. To have been ignored so long, to have been silenced - how desperate he must have been to acquire a shard of freedom, how misunderstood and feared he must have been when all he craved was a head turned his way and a listening ear. Look how far such attention had gotten them – he was uncaged, he stayed of his own volition, and he helped her, guided her, nurtured her. Kurama was her constant companion, her unyielding friend, her dearest confidant. She lived and lost with him never once leaving her side, he had become so precious and endeared to her. Kurama was not born to shed blood and wreak chaos. He had only torn everything asunder when his captors did not acknowledge him. What a terrible cost, what a horrible price he had to pay just to be heard.

Unbidden tears poured down her cheeks. "You couldn't had of known," she whispered as she choked down around a sob, "no one understood one another, how could you have done anything else," she sobbed, "how else could you have finally been free?" Naruko's form heaved against Kurama's head as she tightened her arms around him, desperate to keep hold of him when the weight of sorrow attempted to drown her. He was her only anchor amidst the sea of despair.

"I forgive you," she exhaled around the pressure in her chest, the weight so tight she felt as if her heart was going to give in. "I forgive you," she breathed against his muzzle, her lips pressed tightly against his snout. "I forgive you," she insisted as she kissed the corner of his eyes. The salt stung her lips, his tears held the bitter taste of agony.

"You didn't know, Kurama" and her form steadied itself as she soothed her palm over his eyes, begging him to look at her as she spoke. Only when his ruby eyes opened to meet her gaze did she continue, her own face falling into something of an apology, "Never in any of your lifetimes," she whispered as her hands folded themselves beneath his muzzle, "have any of your captors asked you for your forgiveness." At this, Naruko bowed her head against his face, her blonde hair falling forward as she did so, until Kurama saw naught but the blue and gold that he had come to know only as Naruko. She rested her cheek against the top of his nose and nuzzled her head against him, her bangs ghosted along his snout. "I am so, so sorry, Kurama" she uttered as her tears fell into his fur, the wetness making itself known as it met his skin, "How lonely it must have been," she croaked, her voice suppressed by a quieted sob, "how cruel we were…" and at this, she hiccupped as the torrent of her sadness opened the flood gates. She shook against him, cheek pressed to the top of his giant maw, her tears cascading down his jaw as wept. For though Naruko found a way into the coldness of Kurama's heart, she could not find it within her own to forgive herself and all those that came before her for how they had treated him. Kurama's keepers were no better than the villagers were to her, and she could not fathom entire lifetimes of that isolation. It had nearly done her in when Konoha disregarded her, it was no wonder that Kurama had torn everything asunder.

Kurama stared disbelievingly at the woman weeping over him. Never in his life had he ever envisioned a human, let alone a mere child, apologizing to him for all the years of his imprisonment. She hadn't even grown into her years before she had saved the planet. He would never forget her blue eyes gazing into him, stark and cool amidst the chaos of an ending world, as she smiled and extended her hand to him and promised they would get through it together. He was so undeniably proud of his keeper when she sealed Kaguya and lifted Sasuke from the same tinge of hatred that he himself had lived in. How blinding she was to look at, how brilliant, how transcendent. He reveled in the knowledge that his power was her power, how they shared both in a symbiotic relationship, that should Naruko do so much as _will it,_ the entire world would die beneath her feet. He never thought that he would ever aid a human to fix it, to mend the planet they utilized for their own needs, to soothe and heal broken hearts. She did it as if it were an art form, as if the very heartbeat of life resounded loudly in her chest and radiated outwards to all those who gazed at her. He, Kurama the nine-tailed bijuu, the walking calamity, had handed a mere human child his own heart. In those dawning moments as the small girl wept over his form, Kurama came to the realization that he had loved her with all the certainty of his lifetimes. He had found his home in the wailing infant who grew into a beautiful woman with sapphire eyes and a toothy smile, with a presence that filled an entire room, with hair as shining as a setting sun. He belonged with her, he belonged _to_ her, he would give the rest of his time to keep her safe.

"Naruko," he sighed around her name in an attempt to garner the weeping girl's attention, "Naruko," he tried again, his voice more insistent the second time around. When the girl continued to cry against him, he realized the only way to lift her out of her sorrow was to physically do so. And so, with a movement that belied his strength, Kurama wove one scarlet tail around the girls waist and tucked her against his chest.

Naruko startled out of misery as soft fur encircled her waist. She gasped around a sob as she was gently moved through the air. Her entire body was met with the softness of Kurama - his arms enclosed around her form in a guise of an embrace. She hiccupped as his head nuzzled against her back, keeping her entombed in the warmth of his entire being. She rubbed her face into his chest, attempting to remove some of the dried tears from the planes of her own face. Kurama chuckled at her actions and tightened his arms around her, squeezing her against him to still her actions. She "humphed" into his fur at being caught before she burrowed further into his form, and there the two stayed in the shared embrace.

"Naruko," Kurama spoke at last, his voice reverberating throughout her body due to their proximity, "do not cry for me, Naruko," he whispered against her as he folded her further into his embrace, "I would do it again," he felt as fresh tears pooled down her face, "I would do it all again for you, Naruko."

Naruko's eyes widened in shock as she attempted to extradite herself from Kurama's embrace, but the demon would not free her from his arms, "Naruko," his maw moved against her back as he commanded her to cease, "stop it, Naruko," and she fell still.

"You have nothing to apologize for, kit," she shook her head as he spoke, her bangs fell haphazardly into her eyes, "you saved me from the darkness, you helped me mend my shortcomings with my fellow bijuus, and you freed them from their chains," his eyes fell closed at the memory, "for you I only have gratitude, for you I only harbor admiration and pride." he nuzzled into her more, her small form disappeared beneath all his red.

His following words came out more as a growl, the sting of the hurt still haunted his heart and bit into his tongue, "I had forsaken humans, given up on the race entirely, and resented Hagoromo for creating us to protect this world when they did not deserve it," his voice softened, "but I guess the old man knew more than I gave him credit for".

Kurama chuckled and the laugh was felt all the way in Naruko's bones, "I wonder if he saw you when he came into this world, I wonder if he knew that it would not be a chain that would bind us together, but rather a soul the color of a sunrise, of a new beginning," his voice fell quieter still, "I wonder if he knew that I would find my way to you, belong with you, belong _to_ you," and suddenly Naruko was moving again and smoothly as a rising wave, far enough away from Kurama's chest that she found herself standing before his face resting atop a folded arm.

His crimson eyes were tumultuous as they met her own, "I cannot give you back your parents, Naruko," at this his gaze reflected only regret, "I have been storing my power and partitioning some of yours, I have been amassing chakra and keeping it from you," he confessed as he wove a massive claw around her cheek, its size dwarfing her lean frame.

Naruko's eyes widened as comprehension washed over her. If he had been taking her chakra and storing his own, it would be impossible to function. It would explain why she had fainted and why she could not wake from her comatose state. She searched his face for answers before broaching the simple question, "Why would you do such a thing, Kurama?"

His fingers twitched against her cheek, tangling themselves in the heavy mass of her hair, "I cannot return your parents to you, Naruko," his voice sounded heavy in her ears, " but I can send you back to them".

Naruko's world spun out of focus as she stepped away from his touch, "What-" she gasped as she shook her head, "what do you mean, Kurama?" Her eyes welled with fresh tears, "such a thing is not possible!"

Kurama nodded in response, "I have found a way," his words that followed were grave, "it'll take all I have but I can do it, I will do it for you, Naruko." He moved a claw beneath her chin and lifted it, beseeching her to look at him. When her eyes finally opened and met his own, he spoke, "I can send you back, you can live the life you've longed for," his voice was barely above a whisper now, "a life with your parents, Naruko".

The tears fell unbidden from her eyes, her jaw clenched around a sob that tore at her throat. Her sorrow pooled against the claw under her chin before falling down her neck. Her breath hitched before she trusted herself enough to open her mouth, her words sounded far away from her, naught but an echo, "And what…" she exhaled, "And what of you, Kurama?"

The claw beneath her jaw fell as if he needed to distance himself from her. Suddenly he felt leagues away though he was right before her. When he spoke, she was startled that he had heard her at all, "Without me," he breathed, his words were foreign in her ears, "without me there is no claw buried in your parents bellies, no demon inside your own stomach," his explanation resounded hollowly in her mind, as if he should not be speaking at all, as if it was wrong to even listen to him, "you will grow in a life without hatred, you can save those you love," his voice fell quiet, a slow but steady haunting, as if he were already gone, "you can be happy".

Naruko flinched as if she had been struck. A hole sat agape in the pit of her chest, a loneliness so consuming that it threatened to devour her. It felt akin to drowning – all at once, she held her future in the palms of her hands. She could save Sasuke's clan, could preserve the life of the Lord Third, prevent the loss of her darling godfather Jiraiya-sensei. The possibilities were limitless before her, all those she lost could return to her again. Why did the idea weigh so heavily in the hollow of her spine, why did it not awash her with happiness?

She lost the strength in her knees as they buckled under her. Her descent was quick, silent, and without reprieve. She knelt before the giant fox, his eyes downcast as if he could not bear to see her. Naruko's golden hair sunk against the floor, a stark contrast to the darkness around them. She could not muster the strength to speak when everything in her ached with despair.

She had lived a life of turmoil, waged her wars with hatred, sacrificed so much of herself to save those she loved. She had lost many, so so many – she and Kakashi would stand before the memorial stone and mourn in quiet misery. She carried death like she carried the future – squarely upon her shoulders. It marked each of her steps, left its stain in the shadows beneath her eyes, lingered in the pit of her nightmares like a ghost that never slept. But she had loved deeper than she would have ever believed possible, she had found the purest form of strength, she had tapped into the deepest recesses of her power and increased its capacity. She had done what all those before her could not do and mended the bond between human and bijuu. She had all of their powers flowing through her very own veins as the sole remnant of the ten tails, and she had healed the wounds that tore her and Sasuke apart. The two of them had made amends for the mistakes that had entrenched the deepest lay lines of history. For the first time in all of its existence, the world had finally known peace.

She, too, had learned the serenity of peace. Silver hair gilded platinum in the light of a waning moon, a smile as soft and gentle as the down of a pillow. A touch that could wield lightning, that burns at a mere brushing of her skin, a warmth unknown to her before. Eyes the color of a glowing coal, obsidian and crimson that only seek her gaze. An embrace that feels a lot like coming home. A soft place to fall in the wake of the chaos that surrounded her daily.

And then Naruko reflected over the woman she had become amidst the wreckage and the undoing. She had been born into an isolating hatred, a horrifying loneliness that rendered her more volatile in her rage. So too had Kurama, for he had years of resentment to heavy his anger. But they had grown together, learned together, endured together, persisted against all those who threated to tear them asunder. There was never a moment in her life that she did not have Kurama present, and the reality that she could live life over again without him cast a blade into the belly of her heart. She realized then what she did not know before – she had loved Kurama as if he were the last of her family. In the past, her mother and father sealed their chakra into his prison to keep those gates closed. At releasing him from his chains and melding the two of their chakras, so too did she feel the presence of her parents. In all her days, the one chakra that never left her side was that of Kurama's. She understood, then, why the idea of losing him hollowed out her veins. He was as integral to her as the very beat of her heart – without him, she'd be nothing.

All at once, Naruko felt warm, as if all the hurt in her life finally made sense. The loss and the agony and the suffering only served to deepen the depth of happiness and love in her heart, only served to anchor her hope. It was what gave her the strength to save Kurama from the fate that once lied before her had she not discovered her _Nindo_. Without Kurama in her life, she might not have beheld the capacity to save the world. For though she could potentially rewrite history, she found that there existed a greater risk – a different calamity could strike, one that she would not possess the experience to overcome, and Konoha would be lost to her forever. It was not worth it, not at the expense of Kurama, regardless of how dearly she had longed and missed all those she loved. She could bear it all so long as she had Kurama within her. She _would_ bear it all, for him.

She rose from her knees and walked over to Kurama once more, his ears twitched at the sound of her footsteps. She knelt beside him and soothed a gentle palm over his closed eye as if she were catching fallen tears. "Kurama," she whispered, and crimson meant blue in startled hello at the adoration in her voice, "silly fox," she exhaled as she bowed her cheek atop his snout, "I do not want a world that does not have you in it." At this, she turned her face to press a kiss upon his fur, "I love my parents, I long for them, I ache for them the same way you must ache for Hogoromo," Kurama flinched at the name as fresh hurt jabbed his heart, "but I am who I am because of their sacrifices," her voice shook in quiet succession, but she continued, "and I am who I am because of the ones you've made, too."

Naruko pulled away from him then so that she could better see him. She continued only after her hands were woven against the sides of his face, her tan fingers were encased in scarlet fur. "You are in my veins, Kurama, in the beat of my very heart," his eyes widened, his pupils constricting as if he were bracing for the impact, "I love you, silly fox, I cannot and _will not_ lose you".

Kurama beheld the woman before him in silent disbelief. The girl was all blue and gold, watery eyes and tear-stained cheeks, but in her eyes existed the softest gaze he had ever seen, and he knew she was adamant by the set of her jaw. How peculiar it was, that all this time he was bracing for the goodbye, only to find that she would not utter the words, would not let him go. He had known for a long time now just how deeply he had loved her but did not ever stop to think that she would feel the same. How ridiculous it all seemed now, to have kept it all a secret. He could have asked her from the very beginning and she would not have been trapped for so long.

Guilt heavied his shoulders at the realization that it was unkind of him to assume her choice, and as such he opened his maw to speak. "Naruko I-" but at this she set a palm against his snout, silencing his following words.

"None of that, Kurama," she spoke as she rubbed her fingers through his fur, "I am so thankful to you for caring so much for me," she bowed to kiss his snout, her yellow hair fell against his eyes, gilding his world with gold, "to be so willing to sacrifice yourself for me," her lips ghosted along his muzzle, "I couldn't bear the world without you, you silly fox."

As fresh tears descended into his fur, Kurama wrapped a tail about his keeper in an embrace. He let the small woman continue her ministrations as she pressed kisses along his face and stroked the sides of his jaw. All of his life, he had felt lost, as if he were a ship adrift a sea. The loneliness was overwhelming, he lacked a purpose. And then, all at once, a blonde haired blue eyed loud mouth opened her heart to him with open arms. He fought her tooth and nail, but when he had finally fallen into them, it had felt a lot like coming home.

He grinned against Naruko's stomach and huffed to get her attention. The small gust of air made her lean back from Kurama. Her gaze was questioning when his eyes met her own, "If I cannot send you back to your parents, then what would you have me do, Naruko?"

A memory bloomed in Naruko's mind, a flash of silver, a glint of crimson, a hand folded around her own. An ache of longing rooted in her chest and drew a gasp from her throat. Her hand clutched at the fabric over her heart but her voice was gentle when she spoke, "Give me back to him," her hand fell to soothe over Kurama's snout, "please".

Kurama grinned, large ivory canines stood start against his fur, "Him, hmm?" he replied, his words were light with mirth as Naruko's cheeks reddened, "you really care for him, eh?" He scoffed as if dismissing the idea, "he's a little old for my tastes, but I suppose he'll have to do."

Naruko's eyes widened at his approval before she smiled back at him, her unique birthmarks arcing upwards in response. "Yes, he'll do," she leaned down to kiss the fox once more, "please, Kurama," she whispered now and had he not have enhanced hearing, he might've missed her following words, "give me back to him".

Kurama nodded in assent, the act jostled Naruko from her position. He rose up and away from her, his massive form dwarfing her own in its ascension. His words were loud in the mindscape, the volume startled her after their quiet conversation. "Well then Naruko," he boomed, "it is high time we get you back to him, eh?" He laughed as he spoke, "he's awfully broody in your absence, it doesn't do to keep the poor man moping," his claws clasped together, "he looks more pathetic than a kicked kit."

All at once, the world rioted upon the axis it balanced on and spun away from Naruko. She closed her eyes against the sight of it, her stomach felt as if it rolled into her throat. Her jaw clenched as she curled into a ball, desperate to stop the dizziness. Just when she thought she could no longer bear the whirlwind that roared around her, the world came to a jolting halt. And then, there was naught but silence.

Panic flooded Naruko. She worried that something went awry, that Kurama's jutsu didn't work and that she was back where she was when she started this entire ordeal. Fear poured across her veins, her heart ricocheted against her ribs, and a high pitched ringing sound resonated in her ears. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to find Kurama and tell him it went wrong. She gripped her hair in frustration and shook her head. Her knuckles were taught, her body quivered with pent up apprehension.

A hint of a sound made itself known amidst the ringing, a quiet jostling like the shifting of a position. She gasped and fell still as she tried to expand her consciousness. She questioned whether she had actually heard anything at all, but then a sigh, though seemingly far away, registered to her right. Her heart skipped a beat. A ghost of a touch brushed her hand, Naruko held her breath.

All at once, Naruko was suddenly _aware_. She could feel the sheets against her skin, her bangs that fell to the sides of her face, the pillow beneath her head. She expanded her senses. She was in the hospital suite, she realized, the one that overlooked Konoha. She grinned inwardly at that, knowing that Tsunade placed her there on purpose so that she could still watch over Konoha even in the state she was in. There was more in the room than there should have been, the scent of tears and wildflowers blossomed in her nose. A monitor beeped slowly to her left as it tracked her heart rate. A band wrapped around her left wrist, she felt smaller than she last remembered.

She recalled the sigh and suddenly Naruko was desperate to find the one to whom it belonged. Fingers whispered against the thin expanse of her wrist and all at once, everything was warm. _Kakashi_ , her heart jumped at the recognition. His voice was hushed and in quiet succession. He was counting, she realized, measuring her pulse in spite of the machine that did it for him. She was elated, her heart felt as if it was going to erupt from her chest. It was him, it really was him, and the joy at finally being near him after such a long absence was overwhelming. It nearly brought her to tears.

The thought of tears reminded Naruko of just how deeply she _needed_ to see Kakashi, to take in his visage before her. She hungered to trace the outline of his face, to witness the relief that would awash him upon her waking, to see his eyes just once last time. She yearned for it so dearly that it _burned_. She fought against the unconsciousness in sheer desperation to behold the man she loved once again.

She felt it, then, as if she had been drowning but finally came up for air. She didn't remember her eyelids being so heavy, but she could feel as her eyes moved behind them. Her lashes fluttered against her cheek, eager to lift from their resting place. Flashes of light sparked in her eyes, brief flickers of brilliance that did nothing to ease her desire. Finally, her eyes opened and Naruko was blinded by the world before her. All the colors melded together into a conglomeration of chaos that she could not discern due to being under for so long. She held her breath and blinked in silent repetition as she tried to put order to the blurs before her.

Grey met pale in a swirl of hues, bled into black, descended to navy – Kakashi, she realized, was not wearing his vest. They oriented themselves in sequential order and suddenly Naruko could trace the outline of his jaw, the slope of his neck, the arcing of his shoulders. His hair had fallen askew, it peaked at her from behind his ears, fell into the path of his eyes. There were hollows beneath his cheek bones, she realized with a start, it was subtle but it was enough to hurt her heart anew. She hitched her breath before she could forestall the impulse, and finally, finally, _finally_ , after what felt like a century without them, obsidian and garnet rose to meet her face and Naruko's vision had never been so clear.

Tears welled unbidden in those eyes that she hungered for, Kakashi's mouth fell agape, suspended around the beginning of her name. Naruko dared not to blink for fear she'd lose sight of him forever. The hand around her own twitched, it was a gentle brushing of skin, but for all the lightning that ignited up Naruko's arm, he might as well have held a chidori against the palm of her hand. Naruko remained frozen, eyes wide and innocent as she stared at Kakashi, waiting for him to do something, to say anything that would lift them from this moment that went on forever. She listened as his shoe scraped against the floor, heard the intake of his breath as his body leaned forward, followed the unfurling of his pants as he rose from his chair, and her name, at last he breathed her name, as his hand wove itself against her cheek.

"Naru…" Kakashi breathed, his voice was as gentle as falling rain, "Naruko?" he whispered as he leaned closer to her, his face hovered above her own. Naruko had forgotten how to breathe, his proximity to her had all of her nerve endings alit and drowned out all else. His mask was down, grey stubble lined the underside of his jaw, and in some distant part of her mind Naruko mourned the bruises that lingered beneath his eyes. He moved slowly, as if time itself lengthened the seconds that filled it, and her heart faltered as his thumb finally fell to rest against her cheek.

An errant tear fell down Kakashi's chin and landed on her own. She inhaled and felt the loss of heat from her hand as he moved his other to the opposite side of her face. His watery gaze was questioning and Naruko somehow found the connections necessary to nod her head. She did it once and something came to life in Kakashi's eyes, something that irradiated the darkness that had haunted them. And, between one heartbeat and the next, Kakashi's lips descended upon her own and Naruko was set ablaze.

His lips were softer than she remembered, more tender, and they melded against her own in a way that felt like coming home. His chest was against hers and she wondered if he could feel the heart that rioted against her ribs. Wetness rained upon her cheeks, descended downwards unto her chin, and pooled in a puddle at the hollow of her throat. Kakashi trembled atop of her, and never in Naruko's life had she ever known him to show such a physical sign of sorrow.

He moved away from her and Naruko mourned the loss of his warmth. He was still shaking, so overcome with emotion that he could not bear it any longer. He wove his arms around Naruko's stomach, one hand clung tightly to the space between her shoulders and another took reign across her lower back. His fingers pressed into her skin as he held her closer against him. He gasped around her name, the sound aching enough to break her heart anew, and after three of his heartbeats, Kakashi bowed his head to the crook of her neck, and wept.

"Oh, Kakashi…" Naruko sighed as she wrapped her arms around him, consoling him as best she could. She ran her fingers through his hair, detangling the silver tresses as her nails worked around the knots. Her other hand rubbed soothing circles at the top of his back as he shook against her and she felt as his tears seeped into her hospital gown. "There, there Kakashi," her voice was still hoarse from months of disuse, but she spoke anyways, determined to let him hear her, "it's okay, Kakashi, I am here," she repeated, "I'm here". She tucked him further into her embrace and whispered gentle reassurances to him in hushed succession. Her eyes stayed trained on the man she held so dear to her as she pressed kiss after kiss along the crown of his head and nuzzled him with her chin. She continued like this until his body ceased shaking, too spent from the ordeal to uphold it any longer. Even as he fell still, Naruko could still feel the tears that ran down his face, could still smell the salt that tinged Kakashi's scent with sorrow, and could still hear the quiver to his breathing. Naruko warred with both relief and remorse, relief for having him back in her arms, and remorse for the misery she had caused him.

"You can't blame yourself, kit," Kurama's voice echoed within her mind, distracting her from her self loathing, "it was my jutsu that took you from him, it was not your choice to leave him." Naruko frowned at his words, for though they were reasonable, they did little to ease the guilt that heavied her chest. Noticing this, Kurama spoke again, "he could not love you, you know", he scoffed around the words, as if such feelings were beneath him. However, everything in Naruko came to a jolting halt as his words registered in her brain. "He can't", she responded, "Kakashi couldn't…" and Kurama howled with laughter.

"Come now, Naruko" his amusement at his keeper kept his words alight with mirth, "surely you've known! Why else," he queried, "why else would he be so distraught, so overcome with emotion at having you back in his arms," his voice turned serious, "if the damn fool was not in love with you?" He waited for her to compose herself as he beheld her memories that flashed in her brain. He wondered how it was that someone who possessed cataclysmic power could be so blind to the people before her. Naruko could not settle on one thought long enough for him to make sense of it all - he was affronted with fractured images of different moments that held Kakashi in them. He turned his attention away when some of their more intimate moments reflected in Naruko's mind, but he couldn't help but to notice that she lingered on them longer than most. He scoffed at that, the welp was in love herself and completely ignorant of it.

After what felt like a very tedious montage to Kurama, Naruko finally stopped spiraling and settled to an eerie calmness. He could feel the peace that resonated from within her and radiated outwards, it even ebbed into his own chakra and soothed over his heart. At last, he exhaled, at last his Naruko was herself again. He had known that waking to Kakashi would hurt her and cause her to wage her wars with guilt, and so he had withheld her chakra so that the town would not know that its hero had returned. That way, he reasoned, the two of them could come back to one another without the prying eyes and interruptions of all those in the village. It was the only way Kurama knew how to make up for his own part in the whole debacle. She could have time to reconcile the pain she caused and felt herself, and Kakashi could have the time needed to come to terms with the fact that Naruko was awake and in his arms once again. The girl didn't even notice the absence of her own chakra, she was so caught up in Kakashi and remorse that she didn't feel the hollows in her reserves. He laughed once more at his golden haired companion, for though she had the capacity to feel everything all at once with her sage jutsu, she seldom remembered to look inwards at herself.

"Hey, Naruko," he voiced, and Naruko came out of her reverie, "do you not think it is time?" Her eyes widened in confusion before he spoke again, "have you not noticed, kit," he asked, "that your chakra is still suppressed?" His jaw flashed a grin in the back of her mind and she sighed around her own ignorance, shaking her head as if to dispel the thought.

"I hadn't realized," she admitted before curiosity took reign over her tongue, "why have you kept it repressed?" Her blue eyes stood stark amidst his mind scape, they shined with confusion.

His grin fell flat before he answered her, "I had thought…" he hesitated, "I had thought that it would be best to give you two a moment to reconnect." Kurama's ears folded back against his head at the admission, "It is time though, Naruko" he whispered, and his voice sounded tight with anticipation, "I need the room to expand my power and yours must return to your reserves, I cannot keep carrying it alone," at this a laugh escaped him, "it still baffles me as to how you manage it." Naruko smiled fondly at her companion, her toothy grin sparkled in the darkness. It caught the light as she nodded her head in assent.

"Neh, Kurama," she breathed as warmth filled her belly, the first of her coils unwinding slowly, "thank you," she echoed as she left a lingering kiss on the side of Kurama's muzzle, the mind scape blazing to life with heat, "thank you." Naruko pressed her lips atop his snout and giggled against him as power flooded her veins.

She diverted her attention outwards. Exhaustion was swept away with sweeping blows as chakra bloomed within her and she hid a laugh atop Kakashi's head as energy burned beneath her skin. She reveled in the unwinding, could feel her power expand and reach outwards as it pressed against a barrier. It pushed and rioted against it, swirling with such kinetic force that it warmed the marrow of her bones. A gasp, and the barrier broke as if a dam had been breached. Naruko's tarnished hair imbued itself with sunlight, Winter was dusted from off her skin and color once again took reign over her form. The hollows her cheekbones lifted themselves as Spring petalled upon her cheeks, staining them with the vitality of a rose. Her dried lips stitched themselves back together as health once more restored Naruko to her former glory. Her cracked nails aligned themselves in perfect crescents, the muscles in her thin hands were taught once again. She flexed them experimentally, delighted with how they moved as if they had never fallen still.

With chakra returned her heightened senses. Kakashi's hair was like cool silk as it yielded to her fingers. She brushed them along his cheekbones, and though they were warm to the touch, Naruko could feel his own chakra that responded to her caresses as it pooled beneath her palm. Everywhere Kakashi's body met her own simmered with a barely restrained burning. Naruko longed to wake him, to have his lips against her own, to feel her body combust beneath him and lose all sense of awareness for anything that wasn't her silver haired sensei.

But that, she realized with a sudden jolt of anxiety, would have to wait. For before Naruko could even lift her eyes to the door, it erupted open, blasting off its hinges with a groan that signaled the wall giving in. Tsunade stood amidst the wreckage, her honey colored eyes wideset in the planes of her face. Her hair was askew from her typical style, the two pony tails flew undone from their ties due to the velocity with which she had moved. The rubble had not settled before tears descended down her cheek. They left trails in the wake of the dust that lined her face and caught at the corner of her mouth that was suspended open around her name.

Naruko was once more afflicted with remorse at the sight of her godmother. The Sannin had seldom bore such an expression on her face, one etched from endless despair. The only time she could recall it were when she had blamed Tsunade for Jiraiya's death, too distraught with her own agony to see reason in the sadness. The second time was when they buried him, for though she knew he'd only want to be celebrated, she was still coping with all the pain and suffering of loss. Naruko hitched a breath as a sob threatened to tear itself from her throat. The sound was enough to lift Tsunade from the haze, and Naruko could only watch in silence as the once steady footed hokage stumbled forward towards her.

"It is…" Tsunade shook her head in disbelief, her disheveled bangs fell haphazardly against her chin, "It really is you," she whispered as she finally reached the bed side. "You're…" she hesitated as her pale hand lifted towards Naruko, but the jincuriki couldn't help but to notice that it trembled, "you're awake…" she exhaled, and with it so too went the green light of her chakra as it poured across Tsunade's hand and sunk beneath Naruko's skin.

Naruko noticed that she was holding her breath, could feel the prying energy that scoured across her veins, and stifled a laugh when Kurama growled at the intrusion. Tsunade flinched before sighing with relief, reassured by the spark of demonic aura that rose to greet her grasp. Her shoulders sagged, the rigidity melted from her spine, and for the first time in many years, Tsunade felt her knees buckle beneath her. She steadied herself, receded from Naruko's coils, and brought her attention to the girl before her.

She had not noticed Kakashi laying along the small girl, dwarfing her frame with his own tall one. He had his head buried into her neck, his white hair hung close to his scalp, and he was quiet in his sleep. Had she not had such keen medical senses, she might've missed the almost imperceptible rise and fall to his back that signified his breathing. She offered a small smile of gratitude to the scene in the bed, for she had fretted over Kakashi as often as she had Naruko. She was helpless as she watched him waste away and heard each of his nightmares. She had kept track of his power signature just to ensure he did not falter too far from her capacity to save him. Seeing him in such a deep sleep, with a face devoid of the frown and despair that often colored it, soothed over the last bundle of angst that turned over in her stomach. Her eyes finally moved from Kakashi's form to settle in Naruko's own. She traced the blue depths and was elated to see the bruises beneath Naruko's eyes and the hollows to her cheeks had left her goddaughter's form. Decay did not douse her flame any longer, she was as brilliant as the day Jiraiya dragged her sorry butt to a drunken Tsunade's door.

Naruko blushed becomingly underneath her godmother's gaze and hid Kakashi's face from the hokage's eyes with a sweeping arc of her hand. The elder woman caught it in its descent and Naruko utilized the opportunity to imbue her own chakra into the grasp. Tsunade's pale skin glowed from within. The rouge to her face soothed into an even complexion, the bags beneath her eyes sunk back to the rise and fall of her cheekbones, and her hay-colored hair regained its luster. The wrinkles left Tsunade's skin as if they had never existed to begin with, and the diamond atop her head glowed with renewed chakra storage. Naruko let out the breath she was holding and smiled at the woman before her, alleviated to see that Tsunade's hands had ceased their shaking.

Tsunade squeezed Naruko's fingers before leaning to kiss her goddaughter's forehead. As her lips met Naruko's skin, she spoke in hushed whispers, "Welcome home," she hid an errant sob beneath the following words, "as acting Hokage in the interim," Tsunade's voice turned cool and serious, like the glint of a blade, "I forbid you to ever leave again." At this, Naruko nodded immediately, but the act was stilled by Tsunade's hand that settled on the side of her face. The legendary sannin bowed her head and left a lingering kiss on Naruko's cheek.

Naruko registered fresh wetness upon her skin, but soon that was all she was left with. The hokage's warmth ebbed from her cheek and was replaced with the tender whisps of smoke that announced her departure. Naruko grinned in the silence that followed, content to have assuaged the worry that had plagued Tsunade's form. Seeing her revitalized had reminded Naruko to tend to Kakashi's own suffering. With a smooth gentleness that was atypical of her usually brash movements, she slowly rose from beneath him just enough to have his head rest against her stomach. She returned her fingers to the crown of his head and combed down the hair she had displaced. Her hands glowed in all the colors of candlelight as she transferred her energy to Kakashi. She felt closest to him like this, with her senses expanding alongside his own. His channels were sluggish to respond, but soon they, too, yielded to her loving touch. They opened and Kakashi sighed in his sleep, his breath tickling the thin hospital gown that covered her. He nuzzled her stomach as if sensing she was helping him and it sent jolts of electricity throughout her body. It caused her chakra to jump and it quickened its pace in Kakashi's channels. She "eeped" against him, mumbled a silent apology, and renewed her focus on restoring him.

She watched as his grey skin glowed with renewed vitality. She had loved his skin tone, the color reminiscent of freshly fallen snow. It was peculiar that it was always warm to the touch, that something so pale could burn so slowly, as if lightning itself was barely restrained in the hollow of his veins. The light bled into the supple curve of his lips, melting the chapped pieces back in place and rendering them smooth once again. She was fascinated as the darkness beneath his eyes bled away from his form, replaced instead by the softest white that she had ever seen before. She ran a loving thumb over it, brushing the pad of it along the down of his lashes, and reveled in how beautiful he looked when he was at peace. Kakashi exhaled and leaned into her touch, effectively trapping Naruko's hand against his cheek. Errant strands of his hair tickled the backs of her fingers that rested beneath his ear, drawing her attention away from his face. The grey strands turned silky against her touch. It was as if she was staring at the night sky inundated by clouds, the light - dark, grey, and unreachable. Her chakra had been the wind that swept the clouds away and she was enraptured at the sight. His hair was glowing, she realized, as if imbued with the light of the moon itself. The breath caught in her throat, her eyes sat wide and frozen and trained upon the man before her. Never in her life had someone looked so resplendent, so angelic, that she worried that if she blinked, he, too, would be like the moon and wane from her world forever.

She tightened her grip around him, the hand splayed against his back tremblined with unconstrained apprehension. She needed him, she realized, more than she needed anyone else. The thought of it tore at her heart strings and reaped fresh tears from her eyes. Kakashi seemingly sensed her distress for he stirred from his slumber. His form was blurred before her, but she could make out the hesitant opening of his eyes, a flash of crimson and onyx, and the whole world tilted on its axis.

A sob caught in Naruko's throat, she shook her head to quiet it, but it tore from her mouth despite all her attempts to stifle it. She moved her hands to her eyes to wipe away the torrent of tears that escaped her lids, but they were caught in a firm grasp. She gasped in defiance and yanked against Kakashi's grip, but yielded as she felt him move against her. "Kakash-" her growl of frustration was for naught, as Kakashi silenced her with a kiss that tore the stars from her sky.

It was feverish, it was blistering, and Naruko felt as if she had fallen straight into the belly of an inferno. Her chakra was still ebbing from Kakashi, receding back into her as the jutsu finished, but with it came Kakashi's lightning affinity that electrocuted her nerves all at once. She felt his lips pry open her own and she yielded to him then, too. She had _missed_ him, she startled at the realization before all thought disintegrated from her mind. His tongue found its way to hers and Naruko drowned.

It was desperate, it was hungering, it was never enough. Each movement left Naruko craving more, each sweeping action left her insatiable. Kakashi had fisted his hands in her hair and Naruko clawed her fingers into his back. Kakashi pulled away only for a breath of air, and Naruko tightened her legs around his hips. Amidst the breathless moans, Kakashi held her name upon his lips. Naruko thought nothing tasted so sweet. She gasped in turn, desperate to swallow more of him, his kiss, his tongue, his breaths, until there was no oxygen left in her lungs, and she thought she would rather die from loss of it rather than move from Kakashi. He, however, had different ideas.

Kakashi moved from her, his breath intermingling with her own. He pressed another kiss against her lips, softer this time, less wildfire and more relief. After another kiss, he bowed his forehead against hers. Grey and garnet met sapphire in heady hello, and Naruko could only watch as the emotions swam in the eyes before her. She was never good at understanding people, but she knew Kakashi intrinsically. She beheld lust that pooled warmth in her belly, admiration that brought a blush to her already flushed cheeks, happiness that bloomed a grin upon her lips, and relief that reflected her own. At last his eyes settled on a seriousness that cooled her to her bones.

She was still pinned beneath him, he was so close to her that every breath she took arced her ribs against his own. But the look on his face made her hold it as if she was bracing for impact. Noticing this, his eyes softened and revealed to her a desperation so deep and earnest that her heart immediately skipped a beat at the sight. "You can't…" Kakashi whispered but stopped, swallowing around a cry that threatened to undo him, "You cannot," he tried, and this time his words held the gravity of a setting sun, "You cannot do that again, Naruko". And water pooled in those eyes she loved so much, eyes that stared beyond her own, as if he could see her soul and was demanding it never leave him again. She nodded because she could do nothing else, because words would ruin the enormity of the situation. She nodded because she needed to make sure she entombed the promise in the hollow of her bones, she needed Kakashi to see that she understood, that she would rather die than to leave him again. His eyes half closed, she stole a hand from his back and gently caught at the salt that trickled down his cheek. Her thumb settled on his scar, his eyelashes brushed along the tip of it, and Kakashi allowed Naruko to guide him to another kiss.

It was an eclipse, not a wildfire but a slow and steady burn, as if the two of them were melting together to become a whole. Naruko gave everything she had within her over to him in that moment, for there would be nothing of her left should he not be with her. She loved him, she loved him, she _loved_ him, and she needed him to feel it, needed him to recognize it, needed him to entrench it in his own heart. She loved him, and all else could be damned because she would never part from him again. He must have understood, must have heard her unspoken oath, for he nodded against her lips without parting from her, settled himself closer against her, and kissed her again, and again, and again, until he had given her the last of the air in his lungs. It was only then, when all else had been spent, that Kakashi moved away from her. His eyes held what he could not say, not yet, not in a room he and she had all but disappeared in. But Naruko saw it, Naruko felt it, Naruko tasted it, and it was the sweetest of all her undoings.

Kakashi kissed her forehead, removed himself from atop her, and stole his gaze from her to behold the rising sun. It was dawn, she realized, but she was not looking outside. She was busy remembering Kakashi in this moment, with the grey light soothing over his features. She wondered if he would ever seem anything else but otherworldly, if she would ever find him to be anything less than beautiful. She memorized everything there was to the man before her, he who looked as if he belonged to the moon. As if sensing her musings, Kakashi turned to look at her as a small grin played at his lips. The early morning sun haloed around his form and Naruko's heart faltered in its steps.

"They know you're back," he laughed as a gentle hand settled atop her own, "They're going to want to see you, you know". Naruko's eyes widened before she, too, smiled at him.

"Better grab your mask, Kakashi," she giggled as she rose from her bed, her feet barely made a sound as they landed upon the floor, _'At last'_ she cheered internally, relieved to finally be using her body again. She was distracted at a finger that flicked her forehead, her eyes flashed accusingly to the man before her as fondness was replaced with indignation. His smile was beatific, but it wasn't enough to keep her from pouting. Her hair had not settled at her hips before he pulled her in to his arms. He smelled of fresh linen and aspen trees, a scent she had imprinted as home. His chin settled atop her head, she could feel it move as he spoke, "Mah, Naruko" he teased as he stroked her hair, relieved to have her up and moving again, "it is not nice to tease your sensei".

She scoffed against his chest to hide a laugh, "whatever you say, _sensei_ " she mocked as she grabbed the mask from his back pocket. Then, with a move too quick even for Kakashi, she chucked the thing out the window. Kakashi blinked once, twice, before immediately moving to stop it in its descent. Naruko laughed then, a bright, loud, sound that echoed outside the hospital window. There were people below, calling her name, the commotion finally drew her attention. She peeked out cautiously as an arc of grey and silver landed on the ground, his mask already in place. He waved up at her, a lazy cascade of his hand, but the message was clear – it was time.

Naruko's toothy grin was all the warning the crowd had as her chakra erupted around her. In one graceful movement, she leaped over the window and descended to the crowd below with all the brilliance of a falling star. A mild crater groaned beneath her feet as soon as they met the ground. She looked down sheepishly – her stasis made her underestimate her power and she had forgotten her restraint. She brushed her hand behind her head, miffed that she had forgotten to put her hair in the classic twin ponytails. It fell beyond her hips now, she noticed, but Tsunade had remembered to trim her bangs so that they did not block her vision. She made a mental note to thank her godmother before lifting her eyes to behold the people before her. Fresh tears pooled at her eyelashes in joy at seeing her friends before her, all their expressions set in similar elation.

Her eyes caught the silver-haired jounin briefly as he nodded in understanding, as if he knew how deeply moved she was at seeing the entire population of Konoha standing before her. It was a confirmation of her acknowledgement, a celebration of her existence, and the most sincere show of love and adoration. _She belonged_.

A tear fell, her head turned back to the crowd as her golden hair glimmered with the movement, and Naruko's eyes turned burnt orange as she allowed her sage senses to feel every person's heartbeat. Her chakra unbridled itself from her coils and veined its way to each soul, revitalizing them with energy the same way she had done to Tsunade and Kakashi. _Naruko has returned_ , it whispered without words. _At last_ , it announced, _she is home_.

A moment of silence, as if the entire village exhaled in sheer relief -

and Konoha erupted in cheers.


	9. The Seventh Occurrence - Part 1

Hey all! I had recently received reviews (all of which touched a soft part of my heart, so thank you thank you thank you for such kindness) that mentioned something along the lines of "I wish the story wasn't over". Well, I have good news! It is not :)

This write up might go until Christmas as it is still a work in progress, but I'm really excited for this occurrence. It is one of the hardest chapters to unravel properly in such a way as to do the story justice, but I'm hoping it will be worth the wait. Hang in there with me - I am done with college come the 16th so I will have more time to pen this chapter and finish it.

I feel it necessary to say thank you again for all the love and support. I am so appreciative of all of your words, it gives me the gumption to keep going!

Without ado, I present the first part of The Seventh Occurrence.

All my love,

-E

* * *

The seventh time it happens, Kakashi is dead.

It didn't start out that way, of course. After her welcome home reunion, a bleery-eyed Naruko fell haphazardly against Kakashi, who spared an " _oi_!" before encircling the small girl with his arms. Tsunade watched the scene unfold with an eerie calmness soothing across her spine. She nodded once to Kakashi whom, with a bow of his head, disappeared from the mass of revelers that surrounded them.

Silver and gold made themselves known to the emptiness of his living room as a small pug opened his knowing eyes. His gravelly voice was quiet enough to not disturb the woman encased in Kakashi's arms, but it was riddled with accusation.

"This is becoming quite the habit for you, _Ka-ka-shi_ " he intoned lazily, feigning disinterest.

Kakashi blinked once at the pug as if dismissing his annoyance at the question posed to him. A shrug of his shoulders, gentle enough to not disturb Naruko, was the barest effort expended to his reply. "Think nothing of it, Pakkun," he quipped before turning towards his bedroom.

His voice was almost imperceptible, but the grit beneath his words were enough to render the dog's silence. The pug did not respond but rather found his way back into the nest of his pillow, opting out of the impending confrontation to salvage what was left to his slumber. It was too troublesome, he decided, and if his master did not want to confront the issue, then it was best to let sleeping dogs lie.

For his part, Kakashi did not blame the pug for his query. He had been avoiding his summon's questions as if they were the plague, but there was only so much one could do when the person you've known for well over two decades suddenly changes his or her patterns. A year ago he was a creature of cleanliness and washed his sheets every week just to keep things tidy. His furniture was stark and devoid of any ornaments outside of two pictures - one of his sensei, Obito, and Rin, and the other of Team Seven. He kept his fridge even sparser, more out of necessity rather than any other motive. He was always gone on one mission or another and spoiled food was more hassle than it was worth.

These days, his fridge is always stocked to the brim thanks, in part, to his sunny haired student who took over its maintenance. A well-worn frog wallet still grins knowingly up at him from his dresser, an aftermath of the time she left it there after her apartment flooded. He had thought to return it and even attempted to do so before she grinned a blinding smile and said it looked happier on his dresser than in her pocket. As if sensing his incoming insistence, she showed him a newer, mark free one stating that she had already replaced the darn thing. It makes sense to leave it there, she declared, and as quickly as it had begun, the matter was settled.

A succulent grows upon his windowsill. There are different pictures upon his walls - another of team seven, this time with everyone including Yamato and Sai, one that harbored the forests around their original team training ground, and one of Konoha at sunset. Lastly there reigned his favorite photo, a thought that startled him to realize as Kakashi seldom has favorites of anything. There it ruled atop his nightstand, depicting a scene of peace - Naruko, asleep against his shoulder beneath the shade of a tree, his own head slightly bowed in similar slumber. The shadows softened the usual stark contrast of the two of them, and in such a picture Kakashi could almost see the future - a taste of happiness, a heart filled with love. Sakura must have seen something similar, as she was the one who took such a photo after accidentally stumbling into the clearing in which they resided. She framed it and bestowed it to Naruko as a gift along with a note that mischievously said 'caught you!', and Naruko had never seemed so giddy and so flustered all at once. Kakashi does not know when or how exactly it ended up on his nightstand, but could not help but to grow fond of it, and as such, it remained.

There are errant hair ties lining his floor, hiding between his couch cushions, haunting the darkness of his drawers and cabinets. He has long since given up on trying to collect all of them - the disarray and chaotic spread of them reminds him too much of Naruko's own boisterous qualities. An orange toothbrush sits in the cup next to his own. She has a spare uniform in his closet. In his cupboards, he has more ramen than he could ever feasibly eat alone. There are orange marigolds in his garden.

The most damning of all the evidence, however, is that which he was folding the girl in question into - his bed. The sheets had not been washed since she first laid in them, a fact he would kill anyone for ever learning. The only one exempt from such a fate is the dog that snores upon his couch, for he was too fond of him to ever justify the guilt that would follow the act. But as he tucks Naruko in with a care that belies his own reputation, he cannot find it in him to garner annoyance at the realization. Somewhere amidst the whirlwind of their new found closeness, he imprinted her smell as home. It is in his clothes, in his couch cushions, in his towels - everywhere that he goes, there she is, fresh on the nose like blossoming flowers and wild wind, like spring in heady bloom. It is only fitting that she is in his pillow, in his comforter, in his bedsheets - she belongs there, here, with him. As he brushes her bangs to the side of her face, careful to not wake her, he is hit with the full force of understanding. That should she ask, he would hand her the keys to his apartment, would let her sleep in his bed and share his life until time stood still, for he knew that he would never be at home again if that home did not hold her in it. And, as dawn threatened to break upon the horizon, Kakashi kissed Naruko as she slept, as if he were sealing his fate.

As he turned to leave her to her slumber, a tan hand catches at his wrist. Eyes the color of the ocean, rimmed in tawny lashes, open to him and he knows - can feel it in the weakness to her grip - that she is not yet awake. All the same, a voice as pleading as that of a small child, rises to his ears. It is a simple request, but one in which he does not possess the strength to deny.

"Stay," she beseeches, but cannot last long enough to ensure he follows through. Her eyes close, her hand almost falls from his wrist before it is caught in his own. He is already taking off his shoes before she can even settle deep into her slumber. Kakashi crawls in beside her, sighs in relief when she turns to nuzzle into his chest, and once again wraps his arms around her form, tangling one of his hands in the silky tresses of her hair.

Resolve sits sweetly in Kakashi's chest, peace pours across his soul, and love radiates through his veins. He presses a kiss to the crown of her head and tucks her closer against his form, deciding that Pakkun will just have to get used to this new arrangement.

Because at long last, Kakashi was home.

* * *

The adjustment was not as easy as all the ones before. They would say it was accidental - Kakashi's closets just happened to harbor the orange of Naruko's spare jacket, an extra pair of her sandals, that summer dress from their first outing together. Her pajamas were replaced with his shirts, a fact Kakashi could not find fault with. Her orange towel hung on his rack. It just made sense - they were adjusting from the trauma.

Pakkun found it in himself to garner enjoyment from the boisterous blonde - in her quieter moments, which were found more often in the calmness of Kakashi's apartment, her nails managed to hit the perfect spot behind his ears. Where Kakashi's pets were gruff but riddled with affection, Naruko had a gentleness to her touch - it was if she had forgotten that he was, in fact, a summons. He often times wanted to remind her of that fact, but when she spoke to him with naught but innocent endearment heavying her tongue, he could not find it in him to break the sweetness long enough to tell her of his strength. Somewhere alongside Kakashi, Pakkun regarded Naruko as 'pack' and such estimations were impossible to undo. This realization came with the most bittersweet of thoughts - he and Kakashi were screwed.

Excuses were made. Naruko was still adjusting to her newfound strength and Kakashi had to keep an eye on her to ensure she didn't overdo it. Her apartment had been left undisturbed for well over a month, it would take too much energy to reorient herself to the space. For his part, Kakashi would say that though Naruko's chakra renewed him, he, too, had to reacquaint himself with his sharingan, and who better to test it on than Naruko with her fluctuating chakra coils. When more than four days passed and their friends looked a little too closely at the suspicious actions of Naruko and Kakashi, the two of them chalked it off to practicing a new jutsu. Naruko was sealed away for over a month, it was a valuable tool to recreate and keep in their arsenal. It was only practical to try and figure it out, they'd say, because they were the two who had the most experience with it. Naruko would make a side comment that Kurama, too, was aiding in the attempt. That was the excuse that stuck, for though curiosity weighed heavy on all of their inquiring minds, they could not deny the fact that such a jutsu could potentially come in handy should such another catastrophe strike. For Naruko and Kakashi's part, they did invest a lot of time in trying to solve the puzzle, but such could be done in the daytime. It was a front, of course, but it fit and they were not ones to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Avoiding the prying eyes of the village was a feat in and of itself, but was by far the least of their troubles. Tsunade would call Naruko away to check her vitals and ensure there was no lasting harm to her goddaughter's reserves. She would leave without saying something to Kakashi, and if such happened at night and he woke without her there, he would instantly panic. The first time it happened, he slammed open the hokage's door, fracturing it upon its frame, and with wide onyx and crimson eyes scanned straight through Naruko. She felt the chill of his terror in her bones, and as she wrapped a tan hand around the unusually white palm of his own, she vowed to never leave without telling him of her absence. She would keep her chakra in such a way that he could feel her should he ever reach out. She would not break her promise to him - she would not leave him again.

Naruko, too, had her own struggles. Though she forgave Kurama and did not fault him for anything, she could not help but toil with the feelings from her past. She had not felt such loneliness in a long, long time, and when she closed her eyes to sleep, she would dream of drowning in that same emptiness that threatened to do her in. She'd wake sobbing, tossing and turning until Kakashi anchored her back into the present. He would soothe thumbs over her tears, press kisses to her forehead, and hold her steadily long until she fell asleep. It was only when he left for a night, the fifth night, to go over a convoy mission with Tsunade, that Naruko understood how helpless she had become without him. It was nearly four in the morning before she scaled the hokage tower walls, demanded Tsunade put her back in training, and took over Kakashi's task from him. Only when he rose to excuse himself from the room, Naruko's hand once again found his, pulled him back down to the desk, and beseeched him to catch her up on all that had happened in her absence. At Tsunade's questioning arc of an elegant brow, Naruko's quip was short and final, "I am back. It is time I act like it".

Tsunade nodded her head far too innocently to ever give way to the smile she hid with the action. She had known of the budding relationship, had understood the challenges that would arise with adjusting from losing one another, and had set out to give them the time necessary to recover from the aftermath. She also knew, however, that Naruko would need the gentle nudge to resume her training, and as such purposefully took her off duty for a week. Her goddaughter might enjoy downtime, even more so when all of her time was spent with a certain jounin, but she knew how best to get the both of them back to active duty. Take them apart for just one night, and Kakashi would endure because he's honor bound (to an extent, she added), but Naruko was too hot headed and stubborn to allow for it. That is how she found herself with the morning off, with her darling goddaughter once again doing her work for her. She entrusted Kakashi with the rest of it - she had worked non stop for five days, she needed a drink, or two, or ten.

Still, as Tsunade ordered two shots of sake, no one could miss the smile she wore on her face as she downed them. Naruko was home, Kakashi was back to his old self, and it looked like Konoha could finally be at peace. Whatever lied before them could be handled without consequence, and with this lofty calmness, Tsunade ordered another round of drinks, pulled out her wallet, and sat down to play some cards. She had earned the night off, it was high time she enjoyed herself.


	10. The Seventh Occurrence - Part 2

Hey All~

I tried to get this uploaded prior to Christmas but unfortunately the festivities got in the way. I have a lot in store for this occurrence. There might be 4 or 5 parts to it, so bear with me! I am doing my best to weave an interesting story.

Thank you again for all the love, encouragement, and reviews. You all have my deepest gratitude and appreciation. I hope you enjoy the continuation of The Seventh Occurrence!

All my love,

-E

* * *

It wasn't supposed to happen, really. Kakashi and Naruko fell into a routine that soon became well practiced and maintained. If Tsunade needed her, Naruko would leave and ensure her chakra trail led Kakashi right to her. If Kakashi left, Naruko would sense him from miles away. If one had to do an extended mission, Tsunade gave them both the clearance to go together. It was easier that way - Naruko would prep to take over the title Hokage and Kakashi would mentor her in the interim. They grew into their roles beautifully and for the first time in a very long time, Konoha fell into a calmness that it had not known. Reconstruction was close to finishing and as a result the entire village was serene.

It wasn't supposed to happen. It was like any other night. Tsunade called for Naruko at midnight. Naruko left the bed before soothing a tan hand across Kakashi's forehead, brushing his hair to the side with gentle fondness. He looked as unearthly as ever as the light of the moon pooled across his skin. Her hand lingered there as she reveled at his sight - he truly was beautiful. Longing pooled across her belly, tempting her to ignore Tsunade's request. Though she yearned to follow suit and fall to temptation, duty weighed on her shoulders.

With a well maneuvered and often-practiced leap, Naruko alighted upon the windowsill and left the apartment. Kakashi liked cooler temperatures and fresh air, the open window would be welcome and would remind him of her absence. He would reach for her chakra and find her there, and should he decide to stay awake, he'd be welcome to assist her with whatever task Tsunade had left her to do.

It was with this quiet montage that Naruko found herself before the hokage tower. She was still putting her hair up in her classic pony tails when Tsunade opened the door and ushered her inside. It was a silent affair but one that had become routine. Naruko's tired eyes revitalized with focus as she eyed the pending aid request, and with an elegant flick of her wrist, signed the petition into action and set it aside.

Unbeknownst to the two situated in the hokage tower, a shadowed figure, barely clearing five feet, snuck along the wall. A snap of its fingers was all the disruption it spared before it blended into the darkness and lost all form. It wove its way undiscovered through the empty streets of Konoha before finding its homage at a house lined with orange marigolds.

It etched its way out of the darkness, molding into a form that was more soft than sharp edges, more humanoid in structure. Long tendrils reminiscent of fingers transfixed themselves into a variety of patterns. The ebony fell to tan and gave way to gold, and an aura of unbridled sunlight permeated the air.

Kakashi awoke with a start, mask forgotten in the spans of panic. He fell out of bed, landed on his knees, shook with uncontrolled turmoil as one crimson eye stared out of his window into the abyss of nighttime before him. Naruko was gone.

It took only a moment to ascertain the fact. Her chakra extended towards the tower before disappearing entirely. Even in his sleep he had documented her departure. The window was left open, her pajama bottoms rested innocently in the corner - she would've returned to crawl back into them, they would've brushed his legs as she climbed back into his bed. His eyes widened, his vision strained. He unraveled his coils and let them search for her. He had no skill with sage jutsu and no practical application to utilize this technique beyond a location device for Naruko, but for once in his life he was grateful for his due diligence as they yielded to him easily and expanded their fingers in search of Naruko.

When his chakra extended beyond Konoha's gate and sweat had sufficiently soaked his night shirt, Kakashi allowed his chakra to recoil. He inhaled in an act of defiance for everything within him was falling to the chaos of fear. Naruko was gone, Naruko was missing, Naruko could not be sensed. It was with a heady desperation that Kakashi flung himself out his window, breaking the windowsill in his stead. An errant thought reminded him of his mask - in his haste he barely had a second to reach for it as he jumped. Clumsy hands fastened it around his chin as he raced towards the hokage tower. If she were to be anywhere without him, it would be there. She would not leave him for anything else. She had promised.

A gleam of silver flew across the pavement. Cobblestones gave beneath his feet. He defied gravity, pushing himself further with each stride that met the path below. He was two leaps away from the tower before a fleeting energy brushed across his face like that of a gentle caress, a beguiling welcome, a guiding hand. Kakashi's face turned instinctively before a flash of gold made itself known amidst the darkness.

His feet met the Earth in the space between heartbeats. One pump of his chest, and he was gone. His entire direction changed, his velocity increased as he raced towards the origin of such brilliance. He chased blindly, haphazardly, recklessly, paying no heed to the sticks and branches that bit at his clothes.

Naruko was gone, but that was the briefest embodiment of her essence. It signaled to him like a beacon, like a lighthouse welcoming him home. He quickened his pace before frustration settled into his frame. He was already tiring - he was miles beyond Konoha's walls, far beyond its reach, and almost upon his knees due to his chakra expenditure. The energy beneath his feet that was spurring his steps dimmed, his pace was slowing down.

He was exhausted. His bones were like lead, his feet were heavier still. He trudged onwards at a slower pace, hungering for one more breadth of Naruko's chakra, one more anchor to remind himself that she was still here. He should have not pushed himself so hard to reach for her chakra earlier - he should have saved his energy to search for her. He was berating himself for being so reckless.

His knees buckled beneath him. He caught himself in his fall. Somewhere amidst his hurry, the skies opened and drowned the land with rain. There would be no scents to track, no trail to follow. He would not be able to find her. Kakashi was losing hope.

And then, all at once, he was mid-stride when he felt it again. Not it, but _her_. He felt her. And it soothed out the coil in his chest, softened the stones in his belly, brought warmth back to his veins. She was found, at last she was found. He just worried too much, assumed the worst, he had overestimated the circumstances. Naruko was safe - she was just returning from a mission, he had only needed to be patient.

With this realization came a sigh of relief, a slowing of the footsteps, an end to his pursuit. Kakashi planted his feet into the mud and stilled, waiting for Naruko to bound through the tree line and announce her existence back into the world. She would wrap her arms around him, she would apologize, she would kiss him hello. They'd return home together. They would shower and crawl back underneath the covers, she would apologize one last time beneath a tired yawn and they would resume their lives inconsequentially.

Her presence neared. His heartbeat quickened as it was want to do at the mere thought of her. She was coming closer, still. His mouth opened to form around her name. His arms extended to catch her.

Just in time for one tan, claw-riddled hand to pierce itself through his chest.

Kakashi gasped but did not breathe. He saw but could not see. The world blurred itself to a flurry of gold and green before the entirety of it went black.


	11. The Seventh Occurrence - Part 3

Hi all,

(Fair warning to skip the intro but I found it necessary to write this blurb in the beginning anyways - TL;DR - I'm sick but writing, we're not free from the cliff hanger yet, and I promise that the next installment is coming very, very soon!)

So a bit of a forewarning before I delve further into this story - I am very sick lately and undergoing immune therapy. I am writing in-between and as often as I can, but I hesitate in posting this chapter as one - it is just a different look at the events that have already unfolded, and two - because I find that of all the parts in this story, this is probably one of the weakest. That being said, I will probably edit this when I have more clarity in the next few months.

I am doing my best to add depth to the characters, but in doing so I found it necessary to deviate from the manga/anime and allot for talents/skills/jutsus that probably are not really Naruto's or Kurama's or anyone's. I'm going to be taking some creative license as I continue through the Seventh occurrence. I felt it prudent to warn now as it is only fair to you guys should you be expecting a clean cut story that sticks to the manga/anime (though in turning Naruto into a girl I suppose that has already been tossed out of the window :P ). It won't be anything too unrealistic (I do not have the heart to butcher something so much) but I know that I can, at times, be a purist when I read fanfiction and am now realizing the benefit to a bit more creativity in my own story telling.

That being said - I hope you guys both forgive me for the cliffhanger and trust that it will be remedied with the next addition. This part is a deeper insight into Naruko at the time of the incident and sets the stage for the tumultuous unfolding of events that follows. Bear with me, and I promise it will be well worth the wait.

I am forever thankful for the love and support. I am also open to criticism and guidance. In writing this story I found my biggest challenge is perspectives as I write very freely and know that, in some instances, it is probably really easy to get lost in who is doing/saying what (especially when it orients around Tsunade/Naruko interactions). I've tried to be better but am not quite satisfied with my work. All the same, the story must go on or else I'd dwell on this chapter forever and never save you all from the cliff.

Thank you for hanging in there with me, for being patient, and for reading! I promise the next chapter should be here soon (it's mostly written anyways), I just am tying a few loose ends up! I am also sorry for the long intro!

-E

* * *

For her part, Naruko prided herself on her self-restraint. It was well past two in the morning before she growled exasperatedly and all but overturned the hokage desk in sheer frustration. Her mentor was currently sprawled languidly on the faded sofa in the corner of the office, passed out from one too many cups of "tea" that were more sake than they were herb-infused water. She was left with all the work and very little reward and could not help but to resent the pile of appeals that seemingly mocked her from the corner of the desk. While she took to the task better than even Shizune, she could not help but to mourn the loss of her night. Had she but listened to her selfishness and gave in to longing, she would've been in the arms of a certain silver-haired jounin, serenaded to sleep by the sweet sound of his heartbeat. She was tempted to leave a shadow-clone to finish the work that laid before her, but worried of the lack of responsibility such an act would entail. With another sigh, this one born from defeat, Naruko reached for another form and reoriented herself to the task at hand.

At three thirty in the morning, Naruko caught herself staring absently at the window. A consternated huff erupted from her mouth as her hand rose to meet her chin. She was pouting. It wasn't fair that she should be awake to sign benign appeals that could've waited while a certain blonde Sannin snored the rest of the night away. On top of that, she begrudgingly mused, her other teacher – the one who should've been overseeing these appeals to ensure said Sannin hadn't made a drunken mistake in verifying them – was asleep without her and not aware of her annoyed distress. He should sense her displeasure, wake from his slumber, and rescue her from the monotony of this unending assignment. That is how it normally worked, at least, through a chakra pulse or random instinct, most often Kakashi appeared within a few hours of her absence and rendered the entire situation far more bearable.

When four in the morning came and there was still no sign of Kakashi, Naruko felt as if she had aged a millennium. She had somehow managed to endure half the stack of the appeals with barely restrained annoyance, but found herself at her breaking point. The chair groaned as she moved away from the desk with an unnecessary amount of force. Her hair flowed in similar agitation as she found her way to the window before making the signs necessary to summon a shadow clone. If Kakashi was not going to come to her, she would just have to retrieve him herself. She hesitated only a moment to acknowledge the guilt that arose from waking him at an early hour before she squelched such a feeling in its stead – he would just have to bear it. She missed him. Her clone reflected such a sentiment with downturned eyes and a frown marring its face before it snapped to attention. A nod of its head, a raised hand in a salute, and a promise to retrieve the target was all it spared before it leapt from the hokage tower.

Naruko shrugged her shoulders as if she could shake off the loneliness that had settled around her. Her countenance spoke only of tiredness as she slumped back into the chair, situated herself before the desk, and resumed her duties. A tan hand folded itself gently around the black barrel of a fine-tipped brush as it arced and swayed in the form of her signature. She tried to not distract herself but found it futile as she calculated the amount of time it would take her clone to reach Kakashi's residence. _If she took the rooftops and ran diagonally,_ she mused as she reached for another petition, _she should reach there in three and a half more minutes, believe it!_ Such a realization bloomed a smile upon her face and with renewed gumption, she signed another document and reached for two more.

 _Any second now,_ she giggled as her hand moved to sign another form. Any second now and her clone would dispel and Kakashi would be at her side and all would be right with the world after she apologized to him for the early hour. Any second now and he'd final-

 _Snap!_ The sound of the brush breaking echoed alarmingly throughout the room. Naruko's breath hitched, her hand clenched into a fist to still the shaking. With wide-set eyes she turned her head towards the window, a look of fear etched solidly upon her face.

The sound startled Tsunade out of her sleep. "Oi~," she slurred as she rose, preparing herself to rebuke her god daughter, "what the hell was that sou-" and then she caught sight of Naruko.

Tsunade prided herself on the way she handled her alcohol. She could imbibe to excess should she so choose and utilize her medical ninjutsu to irradiate the toxin from her system, thus staving off the liquor's effects. If she had wanted to remain under the influence and unwind a little, then she could do nothing and enjoy the sensation. She never suffered the ill effects of alcohol unless she did so out of guilt or because she needed to feign sickness just to steal a break from the ever watchful eyes of her assistant, Shizune. She did not vomit, she did not get headaches, and she also never hallucinated due to the substance. She was certain of these facts, but for the first time in her entire life, she wondered if, perhaps, she was wrong. For, as she took in the full visage of her goddaughter before her, Tsunade could not help but to hope that was the case.

Naruko was pale, but such a depiction did not do her justice. Her skin was removed of the warmth that once permeated it, leaving it placid and white. Her right hand was folded into a fist – Tsunade could only watch as it shook, could smell the rust that came with freshly spilled blood. It pooled below her goddaughter's hand and streamed down the side of the desk. The remnants of the brush laid askew on the floor. The pieces that remained in Naruko's fist protruded from between her knuckles. Tsunade flinched as she catalogued the damage, but could not bring herself to move. Her eyes roved up the tenseness of the girl's arm, found their destination as they scanned Naruko's face. It was frozen in a look of terror, her lips were open and agape, her blue eyes were cold and unseeing. She looked haunted, her entire visage screamed despair.

"Naruko…?" Tsunade whispered beseechingly, hoping from the depths of her heart that this was some nightmare that she would wake from soon. She straightened her spine as if bracing for impact before she rose to her feet. Trembling hands stilled as they made the shapes necessary to activate her jutsu. Perhaps she just had too much, she reasoned, perhaps she hadn't cleared the sake out of her system. The diamond on her forehead glowed for the briefest second before the light pooled across the rest of her body, dousing her in green illumination. Tsunade exhaled as it sunk beneath her skin, coursed through her veins, and evaluated her blood and its contents. She winced as it registered in her mind – there were no toxins, no residual alcohol or any of its metabolites, and nothing to cause any sort of hallucination. Which, much to Tsunade's horror, meant that her god daughter was, in fact, not a dream and very much terrified.

She took a tentative step towards Naruko, careful to not make noise as to ensure she didn't startle the poor girl. She arrived before her but the sunny-haired blonde did not make any indication of noticing her approach. Her goddaughter's eyes were unfocused and Tsunade knew that meant she was searching for something, or someone, with her chakra. An orange ring expanded around her blue eyes as her efforts intensified, her entire body stiffened - an action almost imperceptible had she not been trained through years of training to notice. Tsunade could almost feel Naruko's chakra pull beneath her feet as it expanded, could almost touch the anxiety that coursed with it. She outstretched her hand slowly, her pale fingers were gentle as they cupped her goddaughter's cheek.

"Naruko," she whispered as her other hand brushed along her golden bangs, soothing them to the side, "Naruko what's wrong," she questioned with subdued urgency. Her hands haloed around her goddaughter's face, her thumbs brushed along her cheekbones, as she gently guided her student's head up to look at her. Naruko's eyes returned to focus as they startled up to Tsunade's amber ones. She blinked once, twice, in confusion before opening the hand that was bleeding profusely. The sound of falling wooden chunks was all that broke the silence before Naruko seemed to return fully to the present.

Her face turned even paler than before as she answered, "He..." she paused around a swallow as she tried to recall how vocal cords worked, "He's gone," she croaked, the two syllables breaking upon leaving her lips.

Tsunade's eyes widened before her palm rested atop Naruko's forehead as she ensured the young girl's wellness. Upon discovering nothing amiss, her hand receded to cup her chin, "who is gone?" she asked, her voice grim and authoritative in the quiet of the office.

Naruko's eyes broke just then, splintered in all the depths of anguish, "Kakashi," she answered, her voice quivered around the name, "Kakashi," she repeated, her voice more fragile than before, "I can't sense him anymore".

The sannin's face set itself into a similar guise of shock and worry as she formed her following question, "what do you mean, Naruko," and, upon further contemplation, "is he cloaking his chakra?" At this, Naruko's eyes filled with tears.

"No," she breathed, as if she could expel some of her angst with the effort, "No, I can still feel him when he does that. This," she paused as her breath hitched around a sob, "this is different. He just," a hiccup, and the tears poured down her face, "he just disappeared!"

Tsunade couldn't help herself. Her head turned towards the same window Naruko had been staring through before. She saw nothing, felt nothing amiss - Konoha was quiet in the early morning, night was just barely lifting its touch from the village. The birds were stirring, she could hear them flutter. Before too long dawn would break and welcome her beloved home into another day. _It shouldn't start like this_ , she thought, _nothing should disturb such a peaceful morning._

The atmosphere changed in the room. Panic gave way to an almost sinister calmness. Naruko's movements disturbed Tsunade from her musings. She had brought her hand in front of her eyes and was flexing her fingers experimentally before she cleaned them against her orange jacket, marring the bright fabric with the macabre scarlet. She pushed away from the current hokage, the chair making too loud a sound for the intensity of the room, and rose to her feet. Her bangs shielded her face from the sannin's view as she focused on adjusting her weapons pouch. A steady hand anchored itself around the young girl's shoulder, stilling her actions for just a moment long enough to hear the question that followed, "What are you doing, Naruko?" Tsunade demanded, her voice a mixture of apprehension and concern.

When Naruko raised her head to meet the hokage's own gaze, Tsunade could not help but flinch at the color of her goddaughter's eyes. They were stained in an eerie shade of violet, the first of crimson that bled into the blue. It was startlingly cold and unforgiving, a threat rigid in ice. Tsunade almost stepped back at the challenge, almost lost her nerve, before her shoulders set themselves in all the power that her position gave her and spoke once more, "Answer your superior, Naruko!"

When her goddaughter spoke, her voice sounded foreign. No longer was there the light hearted airiness that drew others beseechingly into conversations. Now there was naught but grinding stone, a voice sharp like broken granite. In it Tsunade beheld only one promise - a glint of a blade, an underlying threat, a certain end.

"I am going to bring him back," she answered smoothly as she flashed a dangerous smile - her teeth were sharper than Tsunade remembered, her birthmarks more jagged than a few moments ago.

Tsunade gulped, unnerved by the girl before her. She was about to restrain her, about to seal her to ensure she would not go out of control, but it was as if Naruko had read her mind. Before Tsunade could even anchor the girl with another immobilizing hand, Naruko released such potent killing intent that the air in the room turned suffocating, causing Tsunade to choke as she stumbled. Naruko's hair waved uninhibited by gravity, her eyes glowed even fiercer in the darkness, and the girl launched herself around Tsunade, out of the window, and into the night, leaving behind a gaping hole that groaned beneath the hokage's feet.

She peered over the emptiness and saw straight through to meters beneath the Earth. She fell to her knees, no longer able to stand the tension that had accumulated in her spine. She exhaled once, twice, before the air in the room became bearable enough for her to speak. She yelled for Shizune who instantly tumbled through the door - the spike in murderous intent reached even to her house, she was already on her way, before it became too much for even her to withstand. Wide, dark eyes stared terrifyingly into the hokage's in a desperate search for an answer, and if not an answer, then an order.

Tsunade's shoulders heaved as she shook her head, pointed out the window, and said, "Naruko's losing control," the words coming out as a whisper of fear rather than of steadiness. A clumsy Nara stumbled through the window, a kunai ready in his hand. He paused as he took in the scene before him, the hokage on her knees, Shizune sitting against a wall, both faces in mirror guises of worry. His kunai dropped, clanking loudly on the ground, as he finally took in the state of the office. There was blood on the desk that was against the wall, a chair on its back in similar disarray, and a crater that overtook the center of the room. He looked accusingly at the blonde sannin.

"It's Naruko," she finally spoke, sensing that the Nara heir had enough time to weigh in on the severity of the circumstance, "she is losing control," she repeated, her voice more calm than before but tight with anxiety. She shook her head again, a method of futility, before she finally rose to her feet. "Kakashi's gone," she explained as Shikamaru moved to aid Shizune, "She said he disappeared and she just, she looked utterly destroyed," she sighed as her shoulders sagged, heavy in their helplessness, "And then," she continued as she moved to the window, the frame was splintered beyond repair, "And then she..." she paused, struggling to find the appropriate word, "she changed," she finished lamely.

Shikamaru was apologetic upon realizing how much he misunderstood the situation. His voice was a whisper but ladened with reverence intentionally, to remind the hokage that he acknowledged his error in jumping to conclusions, "Can you explain more, hokage-sama? What, exactly, is wrong with Naruko?"

Tsunade met his gaze but her own was far off, seemingly disconnected, as she recalled the events, "I've never seen anything like it before," she spoke quietly, steadily, but Shikamaru could hear the fear that was etched in her words, "I couldn't even recognize Naruko". The woman before him was no longer one of the legendary sannin or the fifth powerful hokage - she was doused in all the years she had came to love and nurture her goddaughter and that created a softness to her that Shikamaru yearned to shield. Tsunade's eyes returned to focus on the world before her, "It wasn't like her, Shikamaru, it wasn't like the times before when Kurama bled his chakra into her," Tsunade's voice turned hoarse, "it's as if she has no resemblance of herself outside of that which she needs to get Kakashi back". Shikamaru's eyes remained anchored to the hokage's as she spoke, but his eyebrows drew down in practiced concentration.

Tsunade continued, "She's not herself, she's just fury and unbridled rage, I've never felt such tremendous killing intent before," at this Tsunade broke eye contact to gesture around the room, " _this_ chaos was contained, barely" she admitted, "but there is no telling how far she'll go or what else she'll do to bring him back and if," she hesitated to remove the desperation from her voice, the worry and fear would have to wait until later - she was hokage and had a village to protect, "if, god forbid, Kakashi truly is gone," her face was grim in the low light, "there's no telling how she'll react".

The hokage moved to the window knowing the act of looking for Naruko in-between the houses was futile. Her goddaughter was too quick, a trait probably garnered from her father. She'd be well beyond the walls of the village now, the best they could do was chase after her and stop her before she spiraled further. "If she loses all control, Konoha will be gone to the world forever, and I cannot estimate the rest that will fall should we fail at bringing her back".

Shikamaru nodded absently, but couldn't comprehend why Kurama would allow for such a thing to happen. "Is Kurama feeding her the rage," he asked, "they are unified now, aren't they? Should he not be helping to moderate her response?"

At this Tsunade turned and shook her head, "you're misunderstanding, Shikamaru, it is not Kurama that is controlling Naruko or even feeding her his fury," she swallowed around a sigh, there was no more room for helplessness in this conversation, "I believe it is Naruko that is controlling him". She gazed at the crater in the center of the room, searching for the best way to explain the direness to the situation at hand, "Naruko is almost feral, functioning in the only way she knows how - to survive. Her survival is entrenched in Kakashi, crucial only because it means getting him back". She explained further, "when I tried to prevent her departure, she did not see me. I was not her godmother, not her hokage, I was not anyone she recognized. Had I not sidestepped, I would not put it past her to go _through_ me instead of around me. Everyone and everything is an obstacle to her, and as a result, an enemy. She's never been more dangerous than she is now."

Her amber eyes cooled into a seriousness Shikamaru had not seen in a very, very long time. He dropped his gaze to his feet as he asked, "what do we do, then?"

Tsunade's spine straightened, her shoulders were set back, her chin arced up slightly in an air of authority as she answered him, "Gather Sai and Ino as quickly as possible. Tell them to take to the air to search above. Once they find Naruko," her voice raised, causing Shikamaru to snap to attention, "they are NOT to engage right away. If, and only if, they get to her first, tell them to keep a distance until you or I arrive".

Shikamaru nodded his head, quiet in his assent. Tsunade turned to Shizune, "You are to keep this under lock and key until we return, Shizune. The village must never learn of this," her tone softened unbidden, "Naruko has struggled her entire life to carve a home in a hostile environment and has succeeded more than anyone could have ever anticipated. She is the harbinger of peace to this world, she must never be colored in any other shade than that of a hero." Her eyes steeled over again as she stared imploringly at her assistant, "Promise me, Shizune, that you will do whatever, and I mean whatever, needs to be done to ensure that this command is kept".

Upon Shizune's silent nod, Tsunade turned towards the window, freeing the slight woman from the relentlessness of her formidable glare. Shizune leaned against the wall as she shakily lifted a hand to lock the door with a Level S seal. Her eyes fell upon the hokage, her tawny colored hair blowing slightly in the gentle wind. It was a serene image, one Shizune wished would persist as the night soothed itself around Tsunade's light green robe. Her sensei's well manicured hand anchored itself around the bent out of shape frame before her voice rose to disturb the quiet. It would be the last time before her departure, this request more a plea than an order, "Hurry".

And then the Godaime Hokage lept from the tower as the night folded itself around her form, stealing her away from the worried looks of the two she left behind. A moment later, and a hushed goodbye from the shadow user was all the warning Shizune had before he, too, disappeared in a shroud of smoke. Encased in the loneliness of the desolate and destroyed office, Shizune finally allowed herself to fall to the floor, wrap her arms around her knees, and cry. For though she would die before letting this secret be discovered, she could not help but to fear for all those who were trying desperately to keep it. Naruko's prowess could not be matched, her bijuu inside of her only added to the calamity that would arise should Tsunade and Shikamaru fail. Naruko, who nearly gave her life to save the world and all those within it, was now putting it at the greatest of all peril.

Water-filled eyes lifted themselves to the waning moon. Shizune prayed to all the gods for Naruko and Kakashi's safe return, for should they not, the world that remained would suffer unimaginable and irreparable loss.


	12. The Seventh Occurrence - Part 4

Hi all!

So something different this time - a bit of more parts in the one. It's long but was the only reasonable way to link the three arcs of it, so hopefully it's not too unbearable! I will be finishing up the fifth part and hopefully that's the end to this sequence! There will be an eighth, and much lighter/fluffier occurrence after this one, so bear with me!

Thank you again for all the love and support and messages/reviews. It motivates me to keep fighting through things to get this story written :) I'm sorry it took so long!

All my love,  
-E

* * *

"You need to calm down, kid" Kurama's voice was insistent in the back of Naruko's mind, a mantra that held no weight in her psyche. He persisted anyways, " _you_ of all people do not have the luxury of losing control," he voiced to his deaf audience as he lifted a claw to rattle the bars that kept him.

"This is nonsense, Naruko" he tried again, his agitation caused him to ground his teeth together as he spoke which made his words come out harsher and more severe, "Listen to me, Naruko!" he bit out angrily, loud enough to startle the girl into acknowledging him. A blonde haired, purple eyed entity stood before him, a familiar stranger - a threat.

"I will bring him back," she spoke, her voice dangerous like the glint of a blade, "by whatever means necessary," she grinned as she lifted her chin in defiance, as if she savored the hunt. She was feral to him, an unhinged danger.

"You are going to regret this, you insolent whelp!" he snarled at her, but she laughed dismissively and turned her back on him.

"I sure hope so, _Kur-a-ma_ " she mocked as she took another step away from him. She turned her head back only once, giving him the false sense of hope that perhaps she heard him after all and was returning to her senses. But instead, she bore her fangs, a dare to have him challenge her, and he rose to his full height in response.

"Be quiet now, would ya?" she growled out, and with all the weight of a seal, Kurama felt more bars close around his form. He rioted against his bindings as he fell to the floor and roared so loudly it rattled the walls, but Naruko was already gone. He was entombed in naught but silence again.

He could not find it in his heart to be angry with the child. Had they been in this situation years ago, perhaps he would have torn her asunder and fed her such malice that she would've been subdued beneath him before she even knew what hit her. But now, he sighed, now he felt only undeniable concern for the girl. She would not recover if she spiraled and destroyed the world she fought so hard to protect. The guilt alone would do her in once she came to her senses.

And, begrudgingly, he admitted to the fact that she'd remember what she did to him. He could already hear the apology that would fall from her lips. She'd punish herself for days alone just for their short interaction. He tried the bars one last time before shaking his head as best he could and settling it atop his paws.

That Kakashi fellow was more trouble than he was worth. He had known that she loved him - it practically oozed off of her every time she spoke the damn fool's name. He should've realized it, smelled it even, sooner. Perhaps then the white haired idiot would not have ran off and gotten himself killed.

Kurama scoffed. Love was such a fickle thing. But as he felt Naruko's pace quicken and tasted the anger that burned in her veins, he could not help but to empathize with her. Had someone taken her from him, he would stop at nothing to get her back and punish the bastard who did it. He recognized those feelings coursing through her, could hold them as if they were his own.

It was probably an ill advised thing to do, but he bled some of his chakra through the prison bars. Perhaps she'd recognize him in the small increase in power. Perhaps it'd be enough of a jolt to remind her of who she was and all that she tried so hard to be. Perhaps she'd realize she was not alone, that she had people on her side who would aid her in her task, that she would get Kakashi back and all would be right with the world again.

Perhaps she'd remember him and return to her senses. He had hoped that she would - he was not fond of this new side to her. He was unhappy that she could even do such seals in the first place.

And if his power was nothing more than a tool to her, then he hoped it would be that much more of an edge to end this quickly. She could find the perpetrator, bring Kakashi back, and return to him as a sane and rational, albeit apologetic, keeper. He would be satisfied with that outcome if nothing else were to result from his aid.

His eyes fell closed, his snout soothed down around his teeth, and his ears drooped against his head. Regardless of his intent or what would result from it, he could not stave off the worry, and it was with this in mind that he bunkered further into his prison in order to brace himself for whatever happened next.

* * *

The world was intangible beneath her feet, she scarcely recognized the give to the Earth as it crumbled beneath her steps. Such energy exerted a force that could do naught but destroy. In her haste the world was nothing but another obstacle. Let the ground collapse, let the trees fall, let all else be uprooted - the planet did not matter if it did not hold Kakashi in it.

Another step, and she rocketed forward - Kurama decided to be a good captive and aid her after all. She laughed at the jolt of chakra, reveled in the barely constrained strength that rioted in her veins. If she but wished it, everything before her could turn to ash. Her eyes narrowed in delight, her smile bore the glint of sharpened canines. She was hungry for revenge, craved it deep in her bones. She'd find the one responsible for Kakashi's disappearance, torture the imbecile until she learned of his location, and then destroy the wretched waste of a life form before they could even witness the failing of their plan. It wouldn't be painful or prolonged enough to sate her blood lust, but it would get Kakashi back. She would settle for that outcome, she would do anything, just to bring him home.

She felt it, then, or rather felt herself. In an odd singularity that was as foreign as it was familiar, Naruko pivoted on her heel, turned to her left, and bounded heedlessly into the clearing where the entity awaited her. Tarnished gold hair, splotched tan skin, and a grin more evil than kind awaited her - a mirror image, albeit muddled, stood arrogantly before her.

It took less than a second for Naruko to launch forward and wrap a clawed hand around the imposter's throat. Her fingers tightened enough to draw blood, the smell foreign to her nose.

"Ah, ah, ah" the girl giggled around a shaky breath. Her voice was a mix of sing-song and malice, echoing in Naruko's tones - close, but not quite, as if she was speaking through muddy water, "you're too hasty, Naruko-chan," the person mocked, "without me, how will you ever find your darling Kakashi-kun?"

A roar was the only response Naruko spared before _his_ scent, _his_ blood, registered in her mind. Naruko's eyes bled a deeper shade of indigo, dark in their hatred, before she raised the enemy clutched in her hand and threw her violently against the trees, breaking many of them before the body finally fell still.

Naruko gasped in barely restrained fury as her power threatened to break free from her veins. She could not sense Kakashi no matter how desperately she tried, could not trace him anywhere but to the rotten appendage of the monster she just tossed half way through the woods. She ground her teeth together and clenched her hands into fists, piercing the soft tissue of her own palms. The smell reminded her of her task - she could not destroy the insolent bitch just yet, she had to learn what she did to Kakashi.

Another peal of giggles resonated to Naruko's ears, the voice had shed the likeliness of her own. It was different, deeper than Naruko's, more baritone in its notes. A limping figure emerged, a maniacal grin spread wide across its face. Shadows melded backwards - gold gave way to auburn, tan gave way to an almost sickly grey. Blue eyes fell to an onyx hue filled to the brim with resentment. The person before her could not be but 15 at most, still just a child, yet somehow had managed to masquerade as Naruko far more efficiently than any jutsu known to Konoha. Naruko planted her feet firmly beneath her to steel herself against ripping into the small girl. She had to wait, she reminded herself, she had to wait to tear her apart until she told her where Kakashi was. She needed to practice restraint. Her hands shook with the effort.

"It was so easy," the girl chuckled as she rose a bloodied hand before her, "it was just too easy," she flexed her fingers, "he was so worried about you he was senseless!" She doubled over in laughter then, using the momentum to wipe her hand on the Earth beneath her. The dried blood gave way easily to the dirt, a gruesome exchange. Dark red for brown, a look of disgust fell upon the enemies face. Her eyes met Naruko's in brave defiance from her crouch on the floor, "all I had to do was emulate your chakra for just moments at best, and the damn fool came right to my feet, just like a dog to a bone" and the girl's smile turned cruel.

Naruko lost sense. Her fists rioted against the girl's chin. Her head arced backwards, but Naruko's other hand had already rose behind it, binding itself to the dark hair at the back of her scalp, keeping the enemy close enough for her to hastily knee her in the ribs. The girl gasped, choked up blood as she folded around Naruko's body, before Naruko rebounded and heaved her back into another tree. It gave a satisfying crack echoed only by the sound of breaking ribs - the girl rested limply at its roots. Her blood soothed only some of Naruko's fury. It was not enough punishment for the crime the imposter committed against her. There was more to paid.

She bled volatile chakra into the body, its heat scalded Naruko even as it left her own. The girl screamed when she came to, writhed as her bones forcibly healed themselves. Naruko stood before her, haughty and pitiless, as she opened her mouth to speak, "You _will_ give him back to me," she growled out, "tell me where he is, _now_ ".

The girl's head rolled backwards as she pealed out another laugh, this one more deranged than the last as she choked around her response, "Never," she gasped around her mirth, "you're just as much of an idiot as he is!"

The girl must be insane. Naruko's eyebrow twitched in frustration, her jaw clenched so tightly that it had started to ache. She fisted a hand in the girls shirt, lifted her off the ground, and snarled close to her face, "I am not going to ask you again," her chakra spilled forth, burning the girl's skin, "Where. Is. He." she gnashed her teeth around the words. She was enraged.

The child in her hand howled in amusement, "And what will you do, hmm?" she ridiculed, "Kill me, and you'll never find him. Prolong this, and he'll be dead," she taunted as her voice took on a serious tone, "how does it feel," she sneered, "how does it feel to be so helpless?"

Naruko didn't respond. She smashed her forehead against the girl before she dropped her gracelessly on the ground. Those onyx eyes rolled backwards, freeing Naruko from their hatred. She was furious that the girl should pass out so quickly. She stepped over the limp form before her, bowed at her hips and slightly bent her knees, and waited. If the traitor did not understand the severity of the situation, Naruko would just have to remind her. Those dark eyes opened, terror flashed briefly in their obsidian depths, before Naruko slammed a screeching rasengan into the girl's shoulder, tearing muscle and sinew from bone. The insolent youngling screamed in pain, but Naruko could find no mercy. She slammed a foot into her ankle, shattering the bone.

The girl started crying. The smell of salt and blood pleased Naruko's primal nature, but wounded the part of Naruko that still held some sense. Her eyes turned more blue, her chakra pooled back into her veins. She stared accusingly at her own hands before catching sight of the whimpering child before her. She hated the damn thing, detested her, beheld her with such vehemence that Naruko wanted to tear her to pieces, but she was not a torturer. She did not murder. As Naruko listened to sound of suffering, she leashed the monster she had become and bound it in silence. Violence was not working, she would have to reason with the girl, just as she did with Pain and Obito. She would have to find another way.

Naruko lifted her foot and the child yelped, Naruko's eyes softened in mercy. "Why," she asked, her voice no longer tight with anger, "why did you do this to us?"

Ebony eyes raised to Naruko's own, wide with disbelief, before they narrowed in contempt, "Because," she replied as she sat up, ignoring the urge to wince at the pain from her ruined ankle and shredded shoulder, "when the ten-tails attacked, you protected Konoha," she whispered the name of the village with such abhorrence that Naruko had to hide a flinch upon hearing it, "but you did not evacuate the families by the river," she continued, her voice taut with unshed tears and hatred, "we didn't even have a warning before the bombs hit," at this she pushed herself away from Naruko and stood on her good leg, "my entire family, my entire town, destroyed before my very eyes," at this she raised a trembling hand to point at Naruko, "and _you,"_ she jeered, " _you_ were supposed to be the hero. _You_ were supposed to save us," she shook her head as tears poured down her face, " _you_ are the reason everyone I love is dead, and you must pay for their lives! You do not get to live as a hero when you are nothing more than a reckless monster!"

The girl vaulted forward, hand outstretched, and raked her nails across Naruko's cheek. She caught the limb as it moved from her, looked at the hand wet with her blood, and struggled to restrain her anger. She shoved the offending appendage away with barely subdued force before taking another step backwards. Distance was best to ensure she didn't rip the damn thing from the girl's shoulder.

"I am sorry about your loved ones, your friends," Naruko spoke sincerely, "I tried..." she paused to weigh her words, regret poisoned her tone, "I really tried to save everyone that I could but," she continued as tears filled her own eyes, "everyone lost somebody, and I am so, so sorry," a tear escaped its prison, "I am so sorry that I could not save them".

"It isn't good enough," the child interrupted, auburn hair moving as she shook her head, "sorry does not bring mama or papa back, sorry does not place my baby brother back into my arms," she shrugged before her shoulders sagged, her head bowed to hide the tears that fell, "the day I lost them, I knew, I knew that the hero we all worshipped was a lie," she lifted a bloodied hand to swipe at her eyes, "that if you couldn't find it in yourself to deem a small river town worthy of your time to save," she raised her chin to stare loathingly at Naruko, "then you were worse than the evil you swore to protect us from. You are no better than the demon my people once talked about. You haven't changed," she bit out, "at all".

Naruko flinched as if she'd been struck. She opened her mouth to protest the accusations, but the girl smiled disarmingly, as if she had just won a battle Naruko didn't realize they were fighting, "I am not strong enough to fight you - it is a battle no one could feasibly win," she titled her head to the side and chuckled, "and then it came to me - I cannot fight you, but I _can_ destroy you" at this her laughter grew louder, "and it was just too easy! The only weakness you have is your love for that silver-haired Jounin," her eyes shone with malice, "All I had to do was take him from you and watch as you unravelled!"

She took a step forward, tauntingly, as if daring Naruko to erupt again, "and if I tell you I killed him and hid his corpse somewhere you'd never hope to find, if I removed him from you the way you removed my family from me," she lifted a hand to Naruko's chin, drew her face down so she could behold the emotions that splayed across her blue eyes, "if I removed the solace, the hope, and left you with the nothingness," she cooed as Naruko's birthmarks became irregular, "you would fall back into the rage, wouldn't you? I can see it even now. You're already unbridled and unhinged, so furious that you'd destroy everything just to stop the hurting," she whispered now, "just like the demon you are".

A tear fell down Naruko's cheek - the girl caught it with the hand on Naruko's chin and brought the tear to her lips, as if she savored the sorrow. She sighed contently before standing on her toes to whisper in Naruko's ear, "I only ask because I _did_ kill him, Naruko-chan, I pierced my hand through his chest, I felt his heart tear from the force, I heard its last beat, and you know what the last thing he saw, was?" she stepped backwards to see the impact, to catch the breaking, as if she yearned only to relish in the vengeance, "he saw you, Naruko, felt only you as you tore him apart, whispered your name as you stole his last breath," Naruko's eyes fractured, something gave inside her chest, "and then I disposed of him, like he was nothing more than tra-"

Naruko roared, the earth shook beneath her, as she backhanded the girl across the clearing. The girl's face was shattered and was bleeding heavily upon the ground. It wasn't enough. Naruko was upon her in a second, lifting her by the arms before slamming her down again until she heard the ribs break once more. She snarled at the girl before giving her more chakra in order to keep her awake. The girls eyes were unfocused, but Naruko snapped her left arm, crazed for more. Naruko barely registered the resulting scream - it still wasn't enough. She went for the right arm next, stopping only when she could hear the grinding of shattered bone.

The girl laughed around the blood she choked up, "it doesn't matter! None of this matters!" she yelled in delirium as Naruko continued her assault, "he's dead! he's dead! and you'll never get him back!" and Naruko put a hand through her stomach to shut the girl up.

She was seeing red. She smelled nothing but blood. There was more carnage to be had, more damage to be done to the infuriating body that laid before her, broken and bruised. She would keep her alive until she confessed, would keep punishing her for her sins until she was satisfied. Naruko poured more chakra into the body, grinned evilly as the bones repaired themselves, before putting pressure on her clavicles just enough for them to snap.

Naruko laughed, driven insane by the fury and the sorrow. If the stupid girl would no longer regain consciousness, she would just rip her to pieces until she felt better. A violet rasengan glowed in Naruko's uplifted hand, bloodlust filled the clearing as she prepared to deal the killing blow - right through her heart, just like the bitch talked about.

But a hand, ivory and soft to the touch, wrapped itself around Naruko's wrist. An arm anchored itself around her chest. Hair the color of dawn fell forward across her lap as a voice whispered through the darkness, "Naruko," it beseeched, "Naruko come back, don't do this - I can only help you if she's _alive_!"

And the urgency was enough to lift Naruko from the haze of revenge. The rasengan died as Naruko heaved, her eyes flickered between azure and violet, as if she was uncertain of whether or not to let go of her fury or finish the job. They startled to Ino's green ones before she recognized the ink that bound her body. She searched for Sai and found him, silent as a ghost, against the border of the trees, his eyes met hers in disbelief. Guilt registered in Naruko's mind, fear made itself known to her senses - she could taste it emanating off of her two allies, could feel it bristle against her skin.

She had meant to say sorry, to lift herself off of the girl beneath her, to let Ino do her job and find the answers in the child's mind. But Kakashi, Kakashi, Kakashi, was the only mantra Naruko knew how to speak in this state. She looked imploringly into Ino's eyes, desperation heavied her tone, "find him," she begged, her voice more a whine than words.

Ino nodded as she moved to the side of the girl, freeing Naruko from her restrains. Sai loosened the binds of his ink - not entirely, but just enough for his ally to settle where she was. Ino's hands formed the signs necessary to activate her mind transfer jutsu. Her eyes fell shut, her body followed suit, but before the mind user could hit the floor, Sai was there to catch her as he soothed loving hands across her forehead. Such actions were beyond Naruko - she was staring at the enemy's face as she catalogued the damage. Distantly she wondered how many times she broke the same bones, and then sat aghast at how she relished, and still delighted, in the idea of doing it again. Her hands twitched in her lap.

Tsunade and Shikamaru broke through the clearing next. Naruko's flickering eyes caught both, but did not raise to meet Shikamaru's. Tsunade moved towards the group, but Naruko stiffened - a sign of warning - which halted her progress. The hokage stood on the outskirts by the shadow-user, worriedly watching the scene unfold before her.

Naruko heard Tsunade whisper something about bindings, she registered Shikamaru's nod, and the hair on the back of her neck rose in response. She was being challenged. Finding Kakashi was being put at risk. She was losing control again, could feel her canines elongating as they pulled at her gums, drawing blood. Her eyes settled on an eerie violet, her entire body remained hutched over as if she could hide the unraveling. Her bangs fell forward. Her knees tightened around the girl's body, bracing for action. Sai was too focused on Ino to notice, too occupied to register the energy that was permeating the space around them. His ink melted more - Naruko was free to move, but she remained still in a guise of control.

Shikamaru took a silent step forward - Naruko sensed the grass bend beneath his foot. He was making his approach, closing the distance to make his restraints more advantageous. While they would prove a hassle, they'd be no challenge, but she did not want to hurt him in the process of saving Kakashi. Nothing, not even a dear friend, could hinder her from finding Kakashi.

She was becoming more desperate, more volatile, like that of a trapped animal. Her eyes flicked to Ino - the girl was silent and still, until Naruko's senses picked up on something - the blonde was hesitating.

Naruko wove a tendril of chakra into Ino, gentle but insistent, to prod her to reveal what she discovered. Ino winced and Sai looked to Naruko, eyes dawning in realization just a second too late. Ino mouthed the word 'snow', Sai extended his hands to tighten his seals, Shikamaru's shadow desperately reached for his friend, Tsunade yelled for her to stop -

but it was too late. Naruko's hand arced down, straight and true to its mark, and pierced the enemy right though her chest, into the muscle of her heart, where she unleashed a rasengan deadly enough to tear it asunder.

And then the world around them erupted as Naruko unleashed so much chakra that it uprooted the trees, dug a crater into the Earth, and sent everyone else flying meters beyond her.

* * *

There was nothing but pure, unbridled energy. A force so reckless and heedless that it ripped into the world around it, reaping it from its resting place. Naruko's eyes glowed eerily in the epicenter, a violet so bright it was blinding. She turned to face the sky before unleashing the restraints she placed on Kurama - she needed all the power she could find.

"What are you doing, you whelp?!" Kurama howled above the sound of the roaring wind before catching sight of his keeper. Her skin was lifting from her body, her muscles were becoming visible. He caught the sound of fracturing bones. He bled his chakra around her, coated her in red, in a desperate attempt to keep her together.

"I know where he is," she answered, but her voice was eerily calm, "I can get us to him, I can sense him, where Kaguya once sent us," she continued as she brought her hands together in the front of her chest, "I can link us to him!" She formed signs that he did not recognize.

"This is madness!" Kurama yelled as he braced himself against the energy, "You're going to get yourself killed! You can't even reach him!"

But through the haze, Kurama could see her shake her head.

"It's the seal I placed on him," Naruko whispered, startling Kurama when he could hear her clear as day, "I didn't know where he was sent and I couldn't search every rift of Kaguya's, but I know where he is now. I can feel him, Kurama," she sighed in relief, "I can save him".

Naruko was still, serene, and bore the countenance of peace. Everything in her seemed resolute. He realized that it did not matter whether or not she survived this. It only mattered that she find Kakashi. It made sense, then, as to why she was only drawing a limited amount of his power - it would be up to him to bring the man back. The realization sunk like lead weight in his gut.

"Naruko," he pleaded, "Naruko you mustn't do this, please!"

Her face turned away from the sky and gazed straight at him, her violet eyes were wet with sorrow. Her shoulders were set, her hands were alight with energy, and though she smiled, it was clear to be an apology, "I have to," she whispered, and pulled her hands apart.

The world was ripped away from beneath his paws.


	13. The Seventh Occurrence - Part 5

Hi Everyone!

I am so, so sorry that it took me this long to update this story. I had surgery and then have been applying to masters programs, so I've been inundated with applications! I wanted to include more in this part, but decided it was best to upload what I had and continue from here. I hope you keep sticking with me through this, I promise I am going to complete the story!

I am forever thankful for every viewer, review, and follow. You all have given me so much by liking this story, I am humbled and appreciative of your continued support.

All my love,  
-E

* * *

For a long time, there was naught but silence, as if they had been swung straight from the hellfire and into the void. It was the kind of darkness that yawned in emptiness. It was one such existence that appeared to not be anything at all. It was nothing. He was nothing.

And then there was a cold so bitter it bit at the bone. A frost so malignant that it crept into his very veins and bled so mercilessly into his heart that he startled awake to a world so blinding that it was unforgiving to behold. He blinked once, twice, choked on the breath that caught in his throat. It was a brutal awakening, an unforgiving one, but as he made sense of the world around him, he found it to be a necessary task. His eyes fell on a form before him, all bloodied and haloed in gold, stark and glimmering against the white. His breath stopped coming then - he didn't hear a heartbeat.

Kurama gulped. It was snowing. His fur was getting wet. He moved to sit up and winced at the pain. He had fractured his bones on impact and bruised most everything else. It would have to wait, though, because she was in front of him and not moving. He still could not hear a heartbeat.

He crawled his way forward, the way he did as a kit when he was afraid of being seen. That fear could not compare to the one that rolled in his stomach now. He tasted bile in the back of his throat, clenched his teeth around her name. If he said it, it would be real. This moment would exist, and she would be gone. The thought was enough to make him gag. No heartbeat, no heartbeat, there was still no heartbeat.

Closer, still, ever so slowly. Until, at last, he was before her, and he still did not hear a heartbeat. He hiccupped.

She was startlingly beautiful, even at the end of it all. Her skin was splotchy, her flesh exposed, her muscles torn and weeping fresh blood. He catalogued the bones that broke on impact. She had a gash on her cheek and chin in angles that opposed her birth marks, but even they could not dissuade from her beauty. Her lashes still brushed off her cheekbones, her smile still bore an apology, her hair encircled her body in brilliant gold. It had been torn from her ponytails and pooled soft and glimmering atop the snow. Kurama lifted a trembling hand to brush the bangs from her face and hesitated. He couldn't do it, and so it fell limply to his side. Touching her would prove the moment was real, another verification that he was too afraid of. And still, he did not hear a heartbeat.

He was not brave enough to extend his chakra, to reach for hers and receive no response. Such would confirm her loss. He couldn't bring himself to do it, so there he stayed suspended in the moment, his breath held as if it could forestall the breaking. He bowed his head in misery.

And then, something subtle, a noise so imperceptible it would have been missed had it not been for his hearing. A whisper of hope, a tendril of mercy, an anchor for him to hold on to - the seal, their seal, had hummed. So Kurama did the only thing he could do in such desperation and unwound his coils to bleed them into hers.

There was nothing at first. Kurama almost howled in agony. He pried deeper, begging her to reach for him. Anything, he pleaded, anything would be sufficient so long as it was not this unbearable stillness. One of his canines broke from how strongly he was grinding his jaw. The pain wasn't enough to distract him, he dove deeper.

And then, at last, a warmth, something so soft and gentle that it did not belong in a dimension like this - it was Naruko. His heart faltered in its steps, his breath came out in a gush of wind, before he laughed in unbridled relief. He sat back on his haunches and bunkered down for the rest of the transmission. She could feed off of his energy long enough to repair the internal damage and then, at last, Naruko would return to him.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain his patience, but it was not long before he was rewarded. A hesitant thump knocked quietly against her ribs. Kurama thought he misheard but he waited with baited breath for the one that was supposed to follow. Naruko did not disappoint. Her staccato heartbeat soon resounded strong and true, and it was the most beautiful sound Kurama thought he would ever hear again.

Ocean eyes stared in confusion at the sky before they dawned in recognition and clouded in fear. He watched unashamed as he gazed openly at her, relieved that he could once again read her like a book. She blinked once, twice, before turning her head to search for him. When her eyes caught his, he was gifted with a smile. Something uncoiled in his chest.

He outstretched a claw to soothe the bangs from around her face before settling against her cheek, "you," he sighed, "are impossible" but the words were heavied with reverence and made Naruko's smile widen.

She leaned her cheek against his palm, nodding as she agreed, "but we did it," she whispered, her voice hushed and hoarse from disuse.

He wanted to reprimand her, to tell her such lunacy could not be attempted again. But even he could not shake the pride from his shoulders. The fact that she alone could've generated enough energy to splice the dimensions and still survive it was inconceivable. Even with his help, such a feat should've resulted in their deaths. But though they were admittedly worse for wear, they were very much alive and intact. It was asinine, ludicrous, and all else in-between. But as he watched his weary captor nuzzle against his hand, he could not help but swell with admiration. He nodded his head in agreement. Words would just ruin the moment and he wanted to maintain it for as long as he could. For he knew, even in his fear for the girl before him, that there was no other heartbeat, and it was only a matter of time before she, too, came to that realization. This moment was a selfish, momentary reprieve from her hunt. If he could stall it for longer, he would.

But all things must come to an end, even ones as precious as this. Naruko's eyes went distant, beyond him, through him, and Kurama knew she was searching, reaching, even in the state she was in. He pulsed more chakra into her in a futile attempt to speed up her healing. The bones alone would take an hour and judging by the way her brows were drawn down and tight in concentration, she would not remain still enough to fix them. Naruko's mouth fell into a thin line, her eyes rimmed in orange - she was diverting his chakra to sustain her search. Kurama felt a weight settle in his gut - how long, he wondered, until she knew? How much time did he have left before she broke before him?

He settled on her muscles - with precise threading he bound his chakra between them, a technique he acquired by watching Tsunade work after the war. It would stabilize the skeleton enough to prevent further damage and aid in healing. He worked quickly and paid no heed even to his own injuries. He needed to go faster to beat the pull Naruko had on his power. It was more careless than that of a skilled medic-nin's jutsu, but it'd have to suffice for now. For Naruko's heart sped up in apprehension, her breath hitched in her chest, a hand trembled atop the wrist against her cheek and clenched down. Kurama turned his gaze to her face, her eyes wide and unseeing, dark and awash with fear. Her skin was more pale than it was before, her mouth quivered at the corners. And tears, it was always the tears that got to him, pooled at the edges of her eyes. Her hand dug deeper into his flesh, but he didn't wince. He wondered if she kept holding on to him, then perhaps she wouldn't fall from him. Perhaps she wouldn't be lost to him forever. He had lost her too many times already, he couldn't bear another.

But even he could not extend time or rewrite its passage. The orange bled from her eyes and they returned to focus, meeting his gaze with such deep anguish that Kurama felt it to his core. He extended his other hand to cup the other side of her cheek, but Naruko shook her head, stilling his actions. The hand on his wrist tightened, her entire body started shaking. Her eyes clamped shut, tears fell down her face. She writhed against him, so he moved to anchor her shoulders, stopping her before she did more damage. She thrashed against him, ground her teeth together, tossed her head side to side as more tears fell down her face. And then something inside her gave, he could feel it in the way the fight left her body, and Naruko wailed.

The sound was one he wish he had never heard. It was deep, guttural, a howl and sob entrenched in agony. It grated on his ears, he could feel it in his jaw. He didn't know humans could make such a noise, he wished that it wasn't her that was making it, he wanted to claw out his ears just to cease hearing it. It was agonizing, but he couldn't fathom the pain she must be feeling to make it. His ears fell flat against his head, his head bowed to his chest, and he trembled with the effort of keeping her still. He mentally begged her to stop - her sorrow was deafening. But she continued, her grief carried across the land, obliterating the silence with such heavy despair that even the snow seemed to slow in its descent as if it, too, couldn't bear the burden of her breaking.

And then, all at once, silence. Naruko went still. The hand atop his wrist fell from its reign and thudded against the ground. Her eyes opened, tears caught at her eyelashes. She blinked once, twice, before lifting her hands to move his paw from her shoulder. He hesitated but obliged, and Naruko, broken body and all, moved to stand.

She stumbled and he steadied her. Kurama tried to search for her gaze, to garner an understanding as to the new development, but her face was downturned. Gold bangs hid her eyes, and the hands that once trembled were still and defeated at her sides. He moved to lift her chin but halted when she spoke.

"I need to see him," she whispered, her voice hauntingly calm, "I still..." she paused as she took a step away from Kurama, and another, "I still need to bring him home," she finished lamely, before turning entirely and walking in the direction where he knew the body to be.

Her blonde hair seemed dim in the grey light. It moved heavily with her steps, weighed down by the dampness of the snow. He watched her go. She needed the space and the time alone to come to terms with his new and unforgiving reality. She needed to feel the full extent to her loss, to drown herself in the misery that followed. She needed to mourn and he had to let her for Kakashi's death was akin to her own. Without him the world would serve no purpose to her, and no matter how terribly Kurama wished to steal her away, to keep her from the reality of his departure, he knew she needed to come face to face with the ending, no matter how deeply it destroyed her.

It was with great reluctance that he found his own way to stand. The haze of white and grey folded around her form, stealing her away from his world. It was only then that he took the steps towards her, distant enough to not disturb her but close enough to maintain his watch. He would give her the space she needed but would not let her forget that though Kakashi was gone, she was not alone. He would be there to carry her home again.

If any piece of her remained, he vowed he would see it returned to those that awaited her, those who would fold their arms around her and protect her from further loss. He would join in their guard, he would see to her healing until their time together ran out. This resolve, hollow a comfort as he had ever felt before, gave him the strength he needed to limp forwards into the bitter grey that awaited him.

* * *

Naruko knew the very moment Kurama rose to follow her. She felt as he muted his chakra and understood he meant to give her some privacy. It was lost on her, though, because she had to keep focused on her steps. Her bones were grinding against one another, barely supporting her in her struggle. Her steps faltered more often than she would've liked but even the physical pain was numb to her mind. It didn't matter anymore, whether she healed or caused more damage, it all could be damned. Because she had succeeded - she had found the man stolen away from her. She had done the impossible to get to him. But it was all for naught, for his heart was more silent than the realm they were in, and such was enough to take everything good and kind in Naruko's chest and rot it right there beside him.

She could smell him from here. Evergreen forest with a hint of mint and dew, tarnished by the rust of his blood and the scent of the enemy's own. It made the end a reality, and the anguish that resulted from her made her double over and retch. Fresh tears stung at her eyes and she snarled at the pool that greeted her eyes before turning from the mess to continue her journey. She swiped angrily at her eyes, frustrated with her weakness. It would not do to fall apart before she reached him, the thought abhorred her.

So she continued, limping ever forward, slower this time as the strength seemed to wilt from her knees. Stubbornness kept her upright and force of will kept her moving. She needed to see him for herself, needed to ensure it was real - to feel the coldness, the stillness, his absence for herself. She coughed and blood came up with it. She used a frayed piece of her sleeve to wipe it away before stumbling to catch her step. She was losing it, she could feel it in her bones. To come so far, to be so close, and to not make it the last few steps would be the nail in her coffin. Should she fall, she would not rise again. She would let go, for if she couldn't find him in this realm, then she would search for his soul in the afterlife. It would have to do, she sighed wetly, for the edges of her vision were fraying. The once white world was turning black and hazy, and her eyelids were growing heavier by the second.

Another step forward and complete blackness startled into blinding white. Another step, and the colors blurred grey. Her world tilted sideways, a flurry of white, but in the midst of it all, somewhere in the middle, existed a shade that didn't belong to the world around it. And she knew, in the depth of her heart, that at last, at last, at last, she had found him.

Something in her belly unwound itself and bled strength into her knees and Naruko found herself standing shakily, but upright. It would have to do for now, for there was still a distance to bridge. There was still a mission she had to accomplish. And somewhere in the very instinctual aspect of her brain, Naruko needed to see his face, to touch his skin, to have validation for her efforts. She needed that consolation for her failure, to press her forehead to his own and beg for his forgiveness for letting him down.

And so with unsteady steps, Naruko trudged onward. The snowdrifts rose to her knees, her progress was slow. But with every falter and fumble, that shape amidst the white became more defined. Even with tired eyes, she could outline the rise and fall of his cheekbones, could spot the dark undershirt, could trace the hitai-ate that laid askew on the snow beside him. She struggled forward, an effort that caused more blood to pool down her chin with her coughs. She was too desperate to get to him, she was so close now, closer still, he was just a few steps away -

Naruko fell. Her knees unlocked themselves and sent her sprawling forward, her gold hair freshly dampened by the onslaught of snow. She outstretched her arm and flexed her fingers - his hand was so near to hers, just a few more inches and at last she would have him in her arms again. She growled and grit her teeth. Her chin arced forwards and dug itself deeper into the snow, she used the grip to help propel herself forward. The hand that reached for the man she loved now clawed at the ground. And the broken, defeated girl with no strength left to stand, found her way to crawl the last bit of distance forward.

Until her hand wrapped around a wrist, before it trembled its way upward to a chest, fisted in the material, and she used the last bit of energy left to haul herself into a kneeling position. Her back was bent, she heaved from the exertion, coughed a crimson so grimacing it marred the dark cloth before her. Snow had caught at her lashes and blurred her vision - she blinked it away with fresh tears. Quivering hands hastily brushed the hair out of her face before falling to her lap. She gasped once, twice, before lifting her eyes to the face of the man before her, and Naruko felt her life come to its end.

He was beautiful, even now. Eyes closed to the world around him as if he were sleeping, his head tilted sideways as if the snow was a pillow. Fresh flakes landed, melted, and pooled down his face, caught at his jaw, and fell beneath. His gravity defying hair rested gently against his forehead. He looked younger now, as if he were a child taking an evening nap. His alabaster skin looked softer than she remembered, it was paler than the snow. Even now, even after time had passed and the flurry had blanketed his body, he still looked ungodly, a being too good for the world that harbored him.

Her eyes traced downwards. Her enemy had not lied. She did not mar his skin, did not leave any trace of bruises. It was as pristine as ever, as if he had never been touched or harmed. Even the scars she knew to exist on his body were seemingly gone. The cold had paled him too much, rendering him into a state of untouched perfection.

Or he might have been, had it not been for the glaring hole in the center of his chest. Naruko flinched, her own chest aching heavily at the sight. The snow surrounding him was stained a dark red, and in the despairing hollows of her mind, she wondered how terribly he had suffered.

Her eyes fell closed, her chin bowed to her neck, her arms unwillingly wove themselves around her ribs, and she mourned. She mourned, and mourned, and mourned, and as she did so, she tightened her arms as if she could keep herself together the way Kurama had tried to before. She shook her head as if she could disperse the pain, as if she could create more room to breathe. But Naruko was so inconsolably morose that the sobs became all consuming and took the breath from her chest just enough to allow her the peaceful abyss she so dearly needed. After what felt like an eternity of falling to pieces, Naruko's body pitched forward and landed across Kakashi's own. The sorrow had done her in, and her and Kakashi were entirely still as the world rained white upon them.

She came to in a haze of colors. Her vision stabilized on the upwards arc of Kakashi's throat, caught at the sharpness of his chin, lingered on the softness of his lips, and for a moment, a brief, selfish moment, Naruko almost forgot of her loss.

She lifted herself off of him just enough to support herself. Her hands shook as they reached towards him, trembled as they finally touched his jaw. She rioted away at the cold, tears fell in torrents down her face. She choked around a sob at the horror of it all before bracing herself for that which she still had to do. And so, with a gentleness unknown to her, her hands wove themselves around Kakashi's jaw as her thumbs brushed along his cheekbones. One hand moved behind his ear before lifting to brush the hair away from his forehead with a reverence so sincere it would've made the gods envious. She bowed down, as if in prayer, and placed a kiss atop each of his closed eyes, her tears falling into his own as if he, too, were crying. And at long last, the girl of sun eclipsed into darkness as she pressed a kiss to his lips and breathed his name with such despair that the world went colder for having heard it.

"Please," she whispered hoarsely, "please forgive me, Kakashi," and with her quest done, with the unforgiving reality before her, Naruko bowed her head to his chest, and finally let go. She unleashed her sorrow, let go of her pride, and cried so deeply that her voice broke with every sob. She cried until the tears ceased coming and even then she shook against him, grieving for his loss and the loss of her future. When she could no longer force sounds from her throat, she mourned in the silence, head bowed against him as if she were begging for mercy. But mercy would not come, would not grace her with forgiveness or soothe her agony. She would be forced to endure it, to drown in the abyss that kept growing inside her chest and ate away at the happy memories, corroding them to ash and dust.

Naruko felt it, then, a mix of desperation and loneliness that went deeper than those felt in her childhood. It did not harbor the resentment or fury that her youth did, did not instill in her a vigor for vengeance. Instead, it reaped all the love and joy from her veins until she was left with nothing. It hollowed her, and she ached in her emptiness.

A wisp of chakra brushed against her skin, Naruko flinched away from it. It tried once more, gentler this time, and Naruko's sparse reserves rose to riot against it. She would not allow herself the luxury of Kurama's warmth and healing when the man she loved had died in the cold. This would be her punishment, her ghost of a penance for her failure. And if she had any say in the matter, she would lay where she was until she, too, passed into the darkness. Maybe then, and only then, would Kakashi forgive her.

It was the barest glimmer of hope, but she clung to it like a sinner to a prayer. Perhaps she could find him in the afterlife, wrap her arms around him, and never let him go again. Perhaps then, as desperate a plea as she could harbor, she and Kakashi could finally have a chance to be together. She stole one last look at the man she loved, a selfish request, before she closed her eyes to the world around her, and swore an oath to never open them again.


	14. The Seventh Occurrence - Part 6

Hi all!

I could not let January pass without trying to better my upload times! (Part of my resolutions and whatnot~)

My birthday is the 23rd so taking the time to write has been a bit of a present to myself. Keep an eye out for the next installment! I am going to post before February 14th, but I'd meet my goals if I get this storyline ended by the end of January!

I promise the story that follows will be a happy one. I'm finding myself enjoying writing these heavier things, but I understand the cliffhangers are a bit brutal :P Hang in there with me! There is a lot in store!

Also, because I feel fair warnings are kind, I am just giving the heads up that I am taking a lot of creative license with this story. I hope you forgive me for it!

as always, thank you for your continued support. Your follows/views/reviews keep me motivated! I am thankful everyone is willing to travel on this journey with me, and promise to make it worthwhile!

All my love,

-E

* * *

Kurama knew the very minute Naruko whispered goodbye. Her body folded around Kakashi's own as if she could tuck herself against him and stay until she, too, had passed. It unearthed a different kind of sadness in the center of his chest, one that came from the very marrow in his bones. It ached, splintered, and fractured everything within him. The very idea of Naruko's death instilled in him a desperation so deep and fierce to steal her away from this world and keep her from ever visiting it again. If he could but sequester her away, keep her in the light and surround her with her loved ones, perhaps she would survive this. Perhaps they could go home.

But something instinctual in him, something intrinsic to his senses born from years and years of experience, told him that such things would not come to pass. He extended his chakra, reached for the broken girl before him in a quiet plea to heal her, and was met with a wall of refute so tall and unyielding that it rioted his chakra away and remained immoveable. The girl before him, his most precious person, would not allow him the chance to heal her. And if he could not heal her, she would succumb to the injuries that plagued her. It engendered in him a panic so cold it made the snow seem forgiving, and in the haze of fear he wondered just how much longer he had with Naruko before she left. He tried again, desperate this time, and scoured the wall, begging for entry. But Naruko did not yield, and Karama was forced to sit back on his haunches and mourn in the silence that permeated the world around him.

How unforgiving this reality was, how cruel. Naruko, gold and glimmering even here, was being blanketed in white, as if the world could tuck her and Kakashi away from him forever. His claws twitched, frantic to reach for her, but he remained, still and stoic, drowning in the anguish that seemed to consume all else inside his heart.

And then, a shift, a quiet, imperceptible thing. Naruko rose, her face turned toward the man beneath her. Something in her changed, something Kurama could not comprehend. The look she gave to her teacher was filled with love, adoration, and resolve. A stubbornness settled around her form. Kurama watched as her shoulders set themselves in silent determination. And then, another shift, a sadness he could feel in the belly of his soul, a sadness rooted in his and Naruko's connection, permeated the despair that had reigned. He flinched, Naruko turned, and something in her face terrified him more than the silence did.

He had never seen such sad eyes, the blue darkened and swam with torment. Regret, misery, and pain pooled in the tears that caught at the corner of her lashes. She paled, something in her ignited, and an apology poured from her mouth, the heaviest words he had ever heard weighed the distance between them.

"I am sorry," she whispered, her voice melodic even when it was hoarse from her sorrow, "I can save him" she breathed, and Kurama felt the world give from beneath him.

"You musn't!" he growled, his agony rendered his words harsh and distraught, but Naruko's gaze did not waver. It grew more solemn, and Kurama wanted to grab her by her face and demand she change it.

"But I have to," she replied, the words branding Kurama's heart with more fear and anguish, "I can bring him back, Kura-chan" and the nickname made him shiver. Understanding brandished across his mind, he knew only one way to bring someone back from the dead. Only one, damning, self-sacrificial way. The only way that would come at the cost of his most beloved person.

"Please," he pleaded, "please do not do this Naruko," he insisted, his words alight with fresh agony, "you can't, you won't survive it," his voice rose in desperation, "It's impossible!"

But Naruko had already made her decision. Her head tilted, tears poured down her face, and the blue that bore no equal was lost to him as her eyes fell closed. Her hands, her small, delicate hands, the most precious pair of hands he had ever known, molded into the shapes necessary to cast the forbidden life-transfer jutsu. Her eyes opened, violet and resolute, and the air around them electrified itself, melting the snow that surrounded them.

She turned, a slow and reverent thing, and pressed a kiss to Kakashi's mouth. He glowed red and gold as her palms pressed against his chest. And Naruko, in a flurry of chakra, lifted herself from his form, unwound her coils, and bled her chakra into the body beneath her. Kurama roared, extended his claws to tear her away from Kakashi. He snarled when the wall of chakra repelled him, growled as he tried again, and Naruko turned her gaze to meet his own. A hand lifted, folded around her stomach, and Kurama howled. She could not, she would not, unbind him. He would not have it.

But her eyes bore that same sadness, the one that weighed heavier than all else and destroyed everything it touched. Her hand glowed black, the ink bled from her stomach, and Kurama bellowed in gut wrenching agony as his bond to his keeper was severed.

"I'm sorry, Kurama," echoed in his mind as the last of their connection dissipated. He could only watch in abject horror as the woman before him bled her lifeblood into the man beneath her. Her body swayed, she didn't have enough chakra, and she turned towards Kakashi. Her eyes rimmed in brilliant orange, he felt the connection to the Earth, a frayed tendril of energy, before Naruko dismissed the clone she left on the other planet to give her the last bit of chakra she needed to finish her jutsu.

Kurama placed his claws against the wall of chakra, withstood the burning, in order to plea with her one last time.

"Please," he begged, "Please do not do this to me, Naruko"

And her eyes, wet with tears, met his for the last time.

"I love him too much to lose him," he heard her whisper over the roar of energy between them, "and I love you too much to take you with me" she sighed, and the truth burdened itself on his heart.

Time fell to such stillness, then, a silence that was almost forgiving in its nature. Naruko and Kakashi, haloed in red and gold, the snow melted beneath them to reveal a hidden Spring. Flowers and grasses rose and settled around the two of them as if the world was cradling them. As if it, too, was aware of the sacrifice Naruko was making and wanted to honor her before she passed. Kurama, pressed tightly against the wall, frozen mid-howl, was forced to bear witness to the brevity of it all. He was helpless to change it and the futility of his efforts bled the strength from his assault.

Her voice rose to disturb the moment. It sounded too far away. She was already lost to him.

"I can see it, Kura-chan" she murmured, "I can see our future, what we might have had if..." and she paused and hiccupped, a watery thing, before continuing, "a girl, Kura-chan, with silver hair and blue eyes... She would have," she coughed, and blood pooled down her chin, "she would have loved you, and a boy, a beautiful boy, with dark eyes and light gold hair," she inhaled a rattling breath, Kurama could hear the fluid fill her lungs, "they're beautiful, Kurama, they are so beautiful..."

and Kurama wept, for he could see it too. The chakra resonated against his own and like dust particles caught in the light, images flickered once, briefly, to reveal what might have been had life been kind. They glimmered before they faded, leaving hollows in their wake. He witnessed Naruko and Kakashi's wedding, a small, intimate thing, which gave way to a reception that included the entirety of the village. The noise was heard for miles, the celebrations lasted for weeks. And then, a month later, Naruko, gilded gold and brilliant, deigned Hokage. Her smile was broad enough Kurama thought it would break her cheeks, but she turned, always and forever searching for Kakashi, and the smile softened to one of reverence and love. She was thanking him, owning her success and joy to the man who helped guide her to that very moment. Her hand subtly rested on her stomach, and Kurama held his breath, not ready for the scenes that followed.

A family, Naruko would have had a family at last to call her own. Her first born, a boy, with Minato's unruly hair and Kakashi's dark eyes. He was as witty and clever as his father, a handful, a pest, but Kurama knew he had the boundless energy of his mother and could feel the love he already harbored for the whelpling. And then, a beautiful girl with the softest hair he had ever felt, silver as if it was made of woven moonlight. She had her mother's eyes and oh, Kushina's smile. He left Naruko just to carry the small thing as she grew, determined to not let one harm reach her skin. The two of them lived and loved under Kurama's watch, and he never knew of a deeper belonging than that which he found in Naruko's family.

Tears poured down his face. Their lives would have been extensive, filled with highs and lows and all else in-between, rooted and anchored in love. Naruko's strength would grow to be immeasurable, her reign and reach as Hokage would have been expansive. The peace that followed would have been the longest the world would ever know. And at last, at long last, Naruko would have had everything she had ever wanted. Her dreams would have been actualized, her village would be kept safe, and she would have the family she had always longed for.

The images settled, at last, to Naruko's smile. Beatific and unworldly, the smile she reserved only for those she truly loved and revered. Her eyes pooled with the warmth he came to know as home. She glowed as if the sunlight poured out from within her, and for a brief, fleeting moment, Kurama almost believed it was real.

But it was a dream, a vision of what could have been, what might have been, had life not stolen it away from them. Naruko coughed again, the images faded away like expired flames. His most precious person, paler than ever before, was gaunt and unsteady. Her eyes left his to look down on Kakashi. The chakra invigorated him. The color returned to his skin, the hole in his chest closed, he remained untouched and whole.

Naruko wove a tender hand against his cheek as the jutsu stopped. A breath resounded in Kakashi's chest, a beat echoed against his ribs. His eyes fluttered once, twice, before opening. And something in Naruko gave, a happiness so blissful even Kurama could feel it poured from her body. She smiled a breathtaking smile, beautiful even for the blood that marred her chin. The violet stayed, and Kurama knew they only had seconds left.

Kakashi's eyes widened, his voice was a ghost when it spoke her name, as if haunted from the grave, "Naruko...?" he questioned, and she nodded her head.

For a moment, just a moment, the future seemed possible. Hope flickered briefly in Kurama's chest, a damning feeling, before fading into the abyss.

"I love you, Kakashi-sensei," Naruko breathed, eyes violet and orange as the last of her clones on Earth were dispersed, "I am sorry to leave you alone," she whispered as her body swayed unsteadily, her hands falling from his form to make one final seal, "please," she pleaded, "please take care of Kurama for me, okay?"

and Kakashi extended his arm to catch her, to pull her in, to save her. Kurama leapt to bridge the distance and stop her from her actions

But they both were too late. Her eyes met Kurama's, her hands met together in a prayer before they tore apart, and the world was ripped away from beneath him. He was left with her final words, her goodbye that resonated before the chaos engulfed him. They were a hollow comfort, a ghost of longing, an oath that would haunt him until the very end of his days -

"I love you, Kura-chan"

And the world went black.


End file.
